\\ 


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THE  BURGLAR  WHO  MOVED  PARADISE. 
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4Sp  perbert  3D.  SMarto  an* 

eij^abctl)  Stuart  JJ  helps. 

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HOLD  ON  TIGHT,  Miss  (page  22) 


THE  BURGLAR 

WHO   MOVED    PARADISE 

&***'        ,<r^\ 
BY   HERBERT    D    WAP™ 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


1897 


Copyright,  1897, 
BY  HERBERT  D.  WARD. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Uougbtou  &  Co. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS  OF  THE  OLD  MAID'S 
PARADISE 

SCENE  —  Fairharbor,  a  town  on  the  Massachusetts  Coast. 


Hero  .... 
Heroine  . 
Maid  to  Corona  . 
Brother  to  Corona  . 
Sister-in-Law  to  Corona 
Niece  to  Corona 

Friends  to  Corona 

A  Builder 

Boy  to  Corona    . 

A  Dog     .        .        . 

A  Horse 

Neighbors. 

Sub-Hero 


A  Cottage. 

Corona  (Owner  of  the  Cottage). 

Puelvir. 

Tom. 

Susy. 

A  Baby. 
\  Mary. 
/Effie. 

Mr.  Timbers. 

Zero. 

Matthew  Launcelot. 

Lady  of  Shalott. 

A  Widower. 


17Ki  J  5-1 


NOTE 

IT  may  be  remembered  by  a  few  of  my 
friendly  readers  that  I  had,  some  years  ago, 
the  pleasure  of  recording  for  them  the  expe- 
riences of  an  old  maid  who  built  a  matched 
board  cottage  at  the  seaside,  and  with  vari- 
ous episodes  more  or  less  interesting  to  her 
friends,  but  all  of  them  absorbing  to  her, 
lived  in  it  happily  ever  after.  The  adven- 
tures of  Corona,  of  Puelvir  her  maid,  of 
the  Raspberry  Man,  who  wooed  Puelvir 
unsuccessfully,  and  married  a  widow  with 
four  ;  of  a  boy,  a  dog,  a  horse,  and  a  bur- 
glar, all  of  them  closely  intertwined  with 
Corona's  history,  were  conscientiously  re- 
lated, and  have  been  amiably  considered  by 
a  too  generous  public. 

As  the  volumes  to  which  I  allude  are  no 
longer  recent  publications  it  may  be  pru- 
dent to  recall  more  minutely  that  Corona 


vi  NOTE 

had  been  robbed  of  a  five-hundred-dollar 
bond,  and  that  in  the  early  autumn  follow- 
ing this  incident,  while  she  sat  calculating 
the  costs  of  her  non-recovery  (it  amounted, 
Z  remember,  to  four  hundred  and  eighty -two 
dollars  and  thirty-six  and  a  half  cents)  a 
gentleman  had  arrived  unexpectedly  at  the 
Old  Maid's  Paradise.  He  was  a  widower 
and  an  old  acquaintance,  and  he  helped 
Corona  do  the  sum  about  the  detectives.  It 
was  September,  and  the  glory  of  that  which 
is  irrevocably  passing  away  was  on  the  sea 
and  on  the  harbor  shore.  Corona  and  the 
widower  sat  together  and  talked  of  friend- 
ship and  the  present  very  prettily.  Corona 
declined  to  discuss  either  the  past  or  the 
future. 

Her  biographer,  indeed,  raised  the  ques- 
tion, "Had  the  most  dangerous  burglar  of 
all  climbed  up  to  Paradise?  "  But  the 
query  was  never  answered.  It  has  often 
been  my  wish,  and  at  times  my  intention, 
to  reply  to  this  question  myself  by  further 
annals  of  the  history  of  Paradise.  Having 


NOTE  Vll 

been  unable  to  carry  out  this  design  I  am 
happy  to  give  way  to  another  plan  and  pen. 
To  the  following  sympathetic  effort  to  repre- 
sent the  burglar  in  Paradise,  I  offer  my 
heartiest  good  will,  asking  of  my  readers  of 
an  earlier  time  only  that  they  extend  to  this 
little  story  the  same  kindness  of  heart  which 
once  they  offered  to  mine. 

ELIZABETH  STUART  PHELPS. 


AUTHOR'S   PREFACE 

THE  following  narrative,  it  is  needless 
to  say,  is  entirely  from  the  man's  point  of 
view.  It  may  be  the  fact  that  the  woman 
sees  only  the  heraldic  colors,  and  the  man 
the  marshaling  of  arms  upon  the  shield. 
However  that  may  be,  it  is  well  to  have  the 
family  coat-of-arms  presented  from  every 
point  of  view.  Again,  from  a  feminine 
standpoint,  it  is  to  be  expected  that  the 
"Sub-hero"  should  be  of  the  masculine  de- 
nomination. But  a  man  is  not  to  be  eter- 
nally snubbed,  even  if  he  is  only  a  lay 
figure  in  a  story.  And  so,  by  the  privilege 
of  being  the  last  writer  on  the  subject,  I 
have  seen  to  it  that  the  despised  "  sub  "  has 
arisen  past  all  intermediate  stages  until  he 
plays  the  principal  part  to  the  heroine  in 
this  little  drama  of  life. 

A  house  makes  a  very  good  hero  for  an 


X  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

"old  maid"  to  beguile  an  audience  with. 
But  we  are  sure  that  if  we  promote  the  man 
and  degrade  the  dwelling  to  its  proper  place 
in  the  dramatis  personce,  and  drop  the  "old 
maid  "  altogether,  the  play  will  have  truer 
proportions  and  move  from  scene  to  scene 
with  more  heroic  satisfaction. 

HERBERT  D.  WARD. 


CONTENTS 


I.  THE  WIDOWER      .  .        .  -1 

II.  THE  WEDDING 27 

III.  THE  WEDDING  JOURNEY       .        .        •        -47 

IV.  THE  FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING        .        .        68 
V.  DEEP-SEA  FISHING 86 

VI.  THE  POINT          ....  .106 

VII.  THE  MARCH  OF  PROGRESS    ....  125 

VIII.  PARADISE  AFLOAT     .        .        .        ...       148 

IX.  PARADISE  LOST 169 

X.  PARADISE  FOUND 188 

XI.  THE  SURRENDER  OF  PCJELVIR     .        •        •  211 


THE  BURGLAR  WHO  MOVED 
PARADISE 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  WIDOWER 

ALTHOUGH  there  has  been  no  evidence  of 
the  fact  up  to  the  time  of  this  writing,  nev- 
ertheless the  widower  had  a  name.  Why 
there  should  have  been  any  mystery  about 
it  is  hard  to  explain.  Perhaps  an  exagger- 
ated feminine  delicacy  forbade  its  being 
published.  Perhaps  that  spirit  of  aggrava- 
tion, which  might  be  called  the  stimulator 
of  curiosity  and  which  belongs  peculiarly  to 
the  gentler  sex,  prompted  its  suppression. 

For  the  widower's  name  was  neither  un- 
comfortably suggestive,  like  Washington 
Sudds,  Esq.,  or  Mr.  Wiley  T.  Rickey,  nor 
was  it  aristocratic  like  Reginald  Guelph  de 
Somerset.  On  the  other  hand  it  was  not 


2  THE    WIDOWER 

elemental  like  Smith  nor  rare  like  Toxteth. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  widower  was  a  man 
of  the  better  classes  of  intelligence  and  means. 
His  name  (why  juggle  with  the  subject  any 
longer?)  was  Alexander  Hensleigh.  The 
pedigree  of  Alexander  is  not  difficult  to 
trace ;  but  his  patronymic  had  descended 
to  him  through  English,  and  after  these 
through  Nova  Scotian  ancestors  until,  like 
all  of  the  best  things,  the  name  and  the  race 
had  become  bone  of  our  Republic. 

It  was  March,  and  all  that  the  third  month 
of  the  year  implies  to  the  city  of  Boston. 
There  had  been  a  storm  at  sea  and  a  blizzard 
on  land.  Vessels  had  been  driven  on  shore  ; 
cars  had  been  blockaded  in  the  streets.  It 
was  the  third  day  of  the  storm,  and  the  old 
Eastern  Depot  congealed  under  a  draught, 
the  quality  of  which  could  not  have  been 
produced  without  the  boundaries  of  New 
England. 

The  10.45  Fairharbor  train  was  waiting 
on  the  track.  The  engine  was  just  backing 
to  make  the  connection,  and  it  was  within 


THE    WIDOWER  3 

two  or  three  minutes  of  the  starting  time. 
A  tall  gentleman  with  fur  cap  and  ulster, 
black  beard  inclining  to  gray,  and  eager 
eyes,  paced  the  platform  nervously.  He 
had  just  run  through  the  whole  train  for  the 
third  time,  staring  each  of  the  lady  passen- 
gers almost  out  of  countenance.  He  was 
now  engaged  in  consulting  the  station  clock, 
and  now  in  glaring  at  the  gateway.  When 
he  did  not  bite  his  mustache  he  made  no 
pretense  of  disguising  his  disappointment. 
He  scowled  at  every  one  who  was  unfortu- 
nate enough  to  cross  his  line  of  vision. 

There  was  hardly  a  minute  left.  The 
conductor  with  the  white  mustache,  whom 
all  the  Fairharbor  people  knew  with  a  more 
or  less  degree  of  train  intimacy,  stood  ready, 
watch  in  hand.  The  engine  wheezed  im- 
patiently. 

"All  aboard!  "  shouted  the  conductor. 

At  that  moment  a  tall  figure  walked 
through  the  gate.  It  did  not  hurry.  It 
glided  composedly  along  until  it  reached 
the  rear  car  of  the  train.  The  conductor 


4  THE    WIDOWER 

tipped  his  hat  and  smiled  a  welcome,  for 
he  recognized  a  favorite  summer  passenger. 
He  helped  the  lady  up,  and  then  lifted  his 
hand.  The  engineer  opened  the  throttle 
slowly. 

There  was  one  vacant  seat  and  Corona 
dropped  into  it.  Corona,  was  a  striking- 
looking  woman.  She  was  a  strong,  mobile 
blonde,  with  chestnut  hair,  and  a  firm 
mouth  that  looked  a  little  severe  in  repose, 
and  that  curved  and  fascinated  when  in 
action.  Her  eyes  could  be  as  cold  as  a 
tempered  blade  or  as  affectionate  as  a  violet, 
according  to  her  mood.  Corona  was  tall 
and  trig.  She  was  highly  bred  in  every 
movement,  perhaps  too  reserved  to  suit  a 
chance  acquaintance.  But  the  old  friend 
might  once  in  a  while  catch  a  gleam  of 
forget-me-not  in  her  eyes,  a  flush  of  fidelity 
in  her  cheeks,  a  rose  of  passion  in  her  lips, 
a  constancy  that  illumined  her  whole  coun- 
tenance, which  proclaimed,  in  spite  of  her 
New  England  bearing,  the  woman  for  whose 
attainment  a  man  might  well  spend  his  life. 


THE    WIDOWER  5 

New  England  women  have  been  much 
misunderstood  and  carelessly  called  self- 
sufficient.  But  their  manner  is  only  a  mat- 
ter of  indirect  radiation.  It  is  healthier 
because  it  is  so.  What  manner  of  house- 
holder is  he  who  wants  the  furnace  contin- 
ually on  draught,  blistering  the  pure  at- 
mosphere of  the  home,  or  of  the  hearth? 
Corona  had  enough  warmth  in  her  for  those 
she  loved,  and  for  the  one  elect  who  should 
discover  her  to  herself  and  to  him,  even 
though  she  did  look  a  little  unapproachable 
in  her  present  attitude. 

During  the  winter  Corona  lived  in  one  of 
the  Boston  suburbs  with  Tom,  her  brother, 
and  Susy,  her  sister-in-law.  Tom  and  Susy 
had  a  baby,  and  something  was  always  the 
matter  with  the  baby.  This  time  it  was 
deferentially  called  bad  dreams.  No  one 
had  slept  the  night  before,  and  Corona  had 
to  take  the  early  train  with  Tom  in  order  to 
be  driven  to  their  little  station.  This  morn- 
ing Tom  was  late,  and  Corona  had  almost 
missed  her  Fairharbor  train.  As  she  looked 


6  THE    WIDOWER 

out  of  the  window,  she  gave  the  impression 
of  being  absorbed  by  eternal  verities.  One 
would  have  thought  that  she  was  analyzing 
the  last  novel  by  Tolstoi,  with  its  unques- 
tionable moral  aim,  and  its  questionable 
immoral  characters,  or  that  she  was  won- 
dering whether  the  time  had  come  for  the 
organization  of  a  society  for  the  propaga- . 
tion  of  Buddhism  on  Beacon  Street.  But 
Corona  had  a  sane  mind.  It  was  occupied 
with  nothing  less  than  the  circumstance  that 
her  summer  house  was  leaking. 

Zero  had  leisurely  written  her  about  it  the 
week  after  he  had  found  it  out.  Zero  was 
Corona's  boy-of -all-laziness,  one  of  the  most 
important  members  of  her  summer  Para- 
dise, the  currier  of  her  horse  and  favors, 
an  institution  for  the  absorption  of  extra 
doughnuts  and  uneaten  desserts,  a  part  of  her 
sea  life,  and  as  necessary  as  the  stove  in  the 
kitchen  or  the  rocks  upon  the  beach.  And 
Zero  kept  the  keys  of  Paradise  in  winter. 

Corona  proceeded  now  to  draw  forth  from 
her  muff  this  boy's  letter,  and  to  meditate 


THE    WIDOWER  V 

further  upon  the  humid  problems  which 
dampen  every  owner  and  builder  of  his  own 
house  at  some  time  or  other  in  his  ardent 
career.  Corona  had  put  off  her  regular 
midwinter  trip  to  Fairharbor  on  account  of 
the  baby.  But  a  leak  was  different.  Baby 
or  no  baby,  a  leak  must  be  mended,  or 
patched,  or  darned.  This  was  Corona's  first 
own  leak,  and  she  was  vigorously  wondering 
what  ought  to  be  done  under  the  circum- 
stances. So  she  had  telegraphed  Mr.  Tim- 
bers to  meet  her  at  Paradise  at  half  past 
twelve.  Mr.  Timbers  was  the  builder  of 
the  Old  Maid's  Paradise.  And  she  had 
telegraphed  Zero  to  harness  up  The  Lady 
and  meet  her  when  the  train  came  in.  The 
Lady  of  Shalott  was  Corona's  horse.  Un- 
like her  mistress,  the  horse  was  not  a  sum- 
mer guest.  She  stayed  among  the  winter 
people  in  Zero's  care.  But  all  Corona's 
calculations  stopped  with  telegrams.  She 
looked  from  the  letter  to  the  white  snow 
outside,  helplessly  awaiting  a  practical  in- 
spiration. She  wished  —  she  wished  — 


8  THE    WIDOWER 

"  Is  this  seat  engaged  ?  May  I  ?  —  may  I, 
Corona?" 

She  started  at  the  familiar  voice,  and 
glanced  around  and  up.  A  tall  man  de- 
voured the  face  now  flushed  out  of  its  se- 
renity, and  looked  down.  It  was  a  year  ago 
last  fall  since  he  had  bade  her  good-by  on 
the  porch  of  her  own  house  by  the  Septem- 
ber sea.  Not  for  a  moment  since  had  the 
picture  which  her  last  attitude  had  etched 
upon  his  heart  faded  from  his  imagination. 

"May  I?"  he  repeated  gently.  She  saw 
that  his  lips  quivered,  and  a  great  wave  of 
pity  for  him  obscured  in  spite  of  herself  her 
startled  eyes.  She  moved  closer  to  the  win- 
dow and  automatically  held  out  her  hand. 

"Where  —  where  do  you  come  from? 
You  man,  you?" 

Alexander  Hensleigh  took  his  seat  and 
took  her  hand,  and  laughed  softly  with  the 
content  of  a  successful  hunter.  The  dream 
of  eighteen  months  —  the  dream  to  be  near 
her,  to  touch  her  hand,  to  watch  her  face, 
to  hear  her  voice,  to  be  warmed  by  her  smile 


THE    WIDOWER  9 

—  had  now  come  to  pass.  Only  he  who 
has  loved  in  doubt  and  distance  can  under- 
stand the  bitterness,  the  happiness,  the  un- 
certainty, the  hope,  of  such  long  waiting. 
A  hundred  times  a  day  he  knew  that  he 
would  never  see  her  again,  and  that  either 
he  or  she  would  die,  and  that  such  bliss  as 
only  she  might  bestow  could  never  be  for 
him.  And  as  many  times  he  knew  that  he 
should  see  her,  and  he  felt  that  the  one 
desire  of  his  heart  must  be  the  logical  ear- 
nest of  its  fulfillment. 

Thus  two  people  meet  in  a  crowd.  To 
the  passenger  across  the  aisle,  if  he  notices 
them  at  all,  the  two  are  like  cinders  that 
have  accidentally  touched  in  a  draught. 
But  only  they  know  that  an  epoch,  as  im- 
portant to  them  as  the  creation,  has  over- 
taken their  lives.  Corona  looked  at  her  old 
friend  with  a  mixture  of  resentment  and 
admiration  for  the  masterfulness  by  which 
she  had  been  entrapped. 

"I  wrote  you,"  he  said  quietly,  "about 
three  weeks  ago,  to  expect  me." 


10  THE    WIDOWER 

"I  did  n't  get  it." 

"Your  brother  told  me  this  morning  that 
he  had  a  letter  for  you  somewhere.  I  re- 
member he  smiled  in  a  peculiar  way." 

"  I  '11  never  trust  Tom  as  long  as  I  live 
again  with  my  mail!  " 

"I  hope  you  never  will  have  to,"  Hens- 
leigh  insinuated  gently.  "I  have  brought 
it  myself."  He  took  the  letter  out  of  his 
overcoat  pocket,  showed  her  the  address, 
and  then  put  it  back. 

"So  Tom  told  you  that  I  was  to  be  on 
this  train  ?  "  Corona  tapped  her  finger  on 
the  back  of  her  hand.  "I  see  it  all.  It 's  a 
conspiracy.  I  hope  you  feel  satisfied  with 
this  underhand  performance !  "  she  flashed  in 
her  old  way.  "  Besides,  I  '11  take  my  letter. " 

"I  certainly  do.  No,  you  won't."  This 
was  spoken  with  a  quiet  assurance  that 
startled  Corona  more  than  anything  else 
could  have  done.  She  glanced  up  at  his 
face  hurriedly.  She  read  there  the  calm 
expression  of  one  who  was  master  of  the 
situation.  She  felt  like  crying  out  aloud  in 


THE    WIDOWER  11 

protest.  But  those  lips  that  had  now  be- 
come firm,  those  insistent  eyes,  told  her  that 
the  time  had  come  at  last  when  she  could 
no  more  escape  him  than  a  bird  can  escape 
from  a  locked  cage.  And  she  respected 
him,  womanlike,  all  the  more  for  it. 

Alexander  Hensleigh  settled  back  in  his 
seat  comfortably.  For  a  man  who  had 
finally  severed  every  strand  that  bound  him 
to  his  past  life,  and  to  whom  this  moment 
was  as  important  as  the  sun  after  a  week's 
tempest  is  to  the  driven  ship,  he  certainly 
exhibited  few  signs  of  anxiety.  Many 
months  of  self -distrust  had  been  succeeded 
by  a  kind  of  exaltation  as  the  woman  beside 
him  stepped  upon  the  train. 

He  took  Zero's  letter  from  her  fingers 
exactly  as  if  he  owned  her,  and  as  if  he 
were  not  guilty  of  unpardonable  imperti- 
nence. This  she  helplessly  allowed. 

"It  is  from  Zero.  You  can  read  it,"  she 
said.  She  caught  her  breath,  wondering 
what  was  coming  next.  Of  what  audacity 
was  this  widower  not  capable  in  his  present 


12  THE    WIDOWER 

mood?  He  opened  the  letter,  and  read  as 
follows.  The  letter  was  written  on  a  soiled 
half  of  a  store  sheet  of  paper  ruled  blue :  — 

MISS  KORONOH  :  i  want  to  tell  you  that 
yure  Hous  is  leekin  badly  in  the  Pallor. 
You  kin  almost  Katch  dinners  There,  i 
Think  you  ort  to  Sea  about  it.  No  one  hez 
broke  in  yet. 

Your  Obedyuntly,  ZERO. 

They  both  laughed,  and  their  eyes  met 
merrily. 

"It  is  so  good  to  laugh,"  he  said,  "and 
I  thank  God  that  neither  Matthew  Launce- 
lot  nor  Puelvir  is  here  to  matronize  you  this 
time.  I  want  you  all  to  myself  for  once  in 
my  life." 

"You  '11  find  Zero  at  the  other  end,"  she 
suggested  demurely.  "I  've  built  a  kitchen 
since  you  were  at  Paradise,"  she  added, 
with  the  charming  irrelevance  of  a  woman 
who  will  go  to  any  length  to  change  the 
subject. 


THE    WIDOWER  13 

"Ah!  "  replied  Hensleigh  without  enthu- 
siasm. 

"Yes,  a  brand-new  kitchen,  with  a  room 
on  top  for  Puelvir.  She  calls  it  her  house; 
she  moved  in  those  maroon  and  indigo 
curtains  of  hers  before  the  carpenters  were 
out  —  it 's  perfectly  delightful.  The  old 
kitchen  is  the  dining-room  now,  and  there  's 
a  lovely  storeroom.  You  can't  think  how 
happy  she  is !  " 

"Really?  I'm  glad  Puelvir  is  happy," 
answered  Hensleigh  with  dark  significance. 
"Here  's  Zero's  letter,"  he  continued  in  an 
anxious  and  aimless  tone. 

Their  hands  touched  as  he  gave  her  the 
letter  back.  She  did  not  immediately  with- 
draw her  fingers  as  they  were  hidden  under 
her  muff.  Strange  how  lonely  and  helpless 
she  felt  when  she  stepped  aboard  that  train ! 
Life  was  as  bleak  as  the  sky  to  her  then. 
Now  summer  seemed  suddenly  to  have 
sprung  into  existence.  Indeed,  at  that 
moment  the  sun  blazed  out  for  the  first  time 
after  these  many  terrible  days  of  storm. 


14  T1IE    WIDOWER 

As  usual,  on  the  Fairharbor  branch,  the 
car  was  full.  The  conductor  with  the  white 
mustache  took  up  their  tickets,  and  after 
a  pleasant  word  passed  on.  The  marshes 
of  Lynn,  hidden  by  snow  and  ice,  began  to 
glitter  in  the  new  sun.  Even  the  bay  be- 
yond assumed  an  air  of  cheerfulness  entirely 
inconsistent  with  the  tempestuous  month. 
Hensleigh  leaned  over  to  pull  the  shade 
down,  in  order  to  shut  out  the  reflection  of 
the  light,  the  more  glaring  because  the 
more  unexpected.  But  Corona  shook  her 
head  and  looked  out  dreamily. 

Then  the  man  bent  close  to  her,  and  their 
faces  were  both  lighted  by  the  sun.  He 
whispered,  and  the  rumble  of  the  train 
drowned  the  sound  of  his  voice  to  every 
other  ear  but  hers :  — 

"You  know,  Corona,  why  I  have  come?" 

"Why?  How  should  I?  Why?"  She 
made  a  desperate  effort  to  look  unconscious, 
but  her  risen  color  belied  her  affectation. 
This  sign  of  weakness  made  her  angry  with 
herself,  and  then  with  him. 


THE    WIDOWER  15 

"I  have  loved  you  too  long,  Corona,  for 
you  not  to  know  it." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  reason  you  left  me 
sixteen  years  ago." 

"Now,  now,  Corona,  don't  let  us  quar- 
rel! Time  is  too  precious.  We  are  too 
old." 

"Speak  for  yourself,  sir!  "  frigidly. 

"I  didn't  mean  that.  You  know  I 
did  n't  —  I  meant "  — 

"I  'm  afraid  it 's  no  use,  Mr.  Hensleigh; 
we  always  did  quarrel,  and  we  always  shall. 
Do  you  think  you  can  neglect  a  woman  for 
the  best  part  of  her  life  —  marry  somebody 
else  —  and  then  come  back,  swear  eternal 
love,  and  expect  her  to  fall  into  your  arms 
like  a  pet  poodle?  The  East  and  the  West 
are  different,  sir."  She  brought  the  shade 
down  sharply  to  hide  her  emotion. 

By  this  time  all  the  confidence  of  the  few 
moments  ago  had  died  out  of  the  man's 
heart.  He  bent  his  head  and  bit  his  lips  to 
control  his  words.  As  he  was  silent  longer 
than  she  expected  —  for  one  side  of  a  quar- 


16  THE    WIDOWER 

rel  is  n't  much  fun,  even  at  the  rate  of  thirty 
miles  an  hour  —  Corona  glanced  at  him 
with  that  intuitive  sideways  motion  that 
makes  even  the  most  commonplace  of  women 
mysterious  to  masculine  minds.  She  saw 
her  old  friend's  dejection,  and  she  pitied 
him  for  the  second  time. 

"I  have  given  up  everything,  Corona," 
he  began  again  gravely.  "I  have  sold  my 
house,  disposed  of  my  business,  and  have 
come  East  to  stay  —  to  stay,  Corona,  for- 
ever with  you  —  if  you  will  have  me,  dear." 

It  was  now  her  turn  to  be  silent.  This 
was  a  devotion  that  she  could  not  taunt. 

"Let  me  think,"  she  said,  with  a  swift 
glance  of  confidence  that  made  a  man  of 
him  again.  "Ask  me  later —  Ah,  there  's 
the  sea.  How  beautiful!  How  happy!  " 

"  Here  you  are,  Miss  Corona.  Take  you 
right  over!"  The  pilot  of  the  Fairharbor 
stage  jumped  forward  as  Corona  stepped 
out.  The  air  was  salt  and  cold,  but  how 
fresh  and  pure !  Nobody  noticed  her  com- 


THE    WIDOWER  17 

panion,  but  Corona,  as  he  helped  her  off 
the  car,  had  leaned  upon  his  arm  more 
heavily  than  one  would  expect  a  hearty, 
modern  woman  to  do.  She  had  also  given 
him  a  look  of  gratitude,  so  swift  that  not 
even  the  stage-driver  had  noticed  it.  The 
snow  was  heaped  high  around  the  station. 

"  Take  you  over  safe  as  a  dory  on  a  float ! 
Got  new  runners  on  this  morning.  This  is 
the  worst  we  ever  had.  Snow  draws  three 
feet  everywhere  on  a  level,"  insisted  the 
driver  affably. 

"My  own  carriage  is  here  to  meet  me." 
Corona  spoke  with  the  dignity  that  only  a 
horse-holder  can  assume.  "  Zero  is  here  to 
meet  me." 

"  He !  he ! !  he ! ! !  "  irreverently  snickered 
the  driver. 

"Isn't  Zero  here  as  I  telegraphed?" 
Corona  asked  hastily. 

"He  's  there,  all  righjb,  on  the  other  side, 
but  — he!  he!!  he!!!" 

Corona  motioned  to  her  companion  as  she 
hurried  over.  It  was  true,  there  was  her 


18  THE    WIDOWER 

faithful  Zero —  a  boy  of  about  fifteen  — 
standing  up  to  his  hips  in  snow  at  the  head 
of  a  prancing,  snorting,  kicking  horse. 
Apparently  The  Lady  of  Shalott  was  doing 
the  best  she  could  to  stand  on  her  head. 
In  the  pursuance  of  this  noble  effort  she 
had  floundered  into  a  six-foot  drift  and  was 
rapidly  drawing  the  boy  out  of  sight.  And 
behind  that  horse  was  a  buggy. 

"Why,  Zero!"  exclaimed  the  proprietor 
of  the  outfit. 

"Hay?"  spluttered  Zero  blankly. 

"Oh,  I  forgot,"  said  Corona,  "the  boy  is 
as  deaf  as  a  boulder,  and  I  forget  it  every 
spring." 

"I  'm  dum  glad  ye  've  come,  miss,"  said 
the  hapless  boy,  bobbing  the  snow  out  of  his 
eyes.  "I  thought  ye  hadn't  come  and  wuz 
wonderin'  how  to  get  in.  I  've  hed  one 
policeman  and  three  men  holdin'  of  this 
hoss,  and  bin  two  hours  gettin'  here.  It 
wuzorfurl!  Whoa,  there!  Whoa!" 

"But,  Zero,  why  didn't  you  put  her  into 
a  sleigh?" 


THE    WIDOWER  19 

"Hay?" 

"Sleigh!     Sleigh!" 

"  Way  ?  "  asked  Zero  intelligently.  "  Yes, 
I  hed  to  walk  her  all  the  way." 

The  engine  at  this  crisis  let  off  steam, 
and  the  boy  lost  his  footing  as  The  Lady 
dashed  deeper  into  the  drift.  One  degree 
of  angle  more  and  the  buggy  would  have 
been  capsized. 

"No,  sleigh?" 

"You  didn't  say  nothin'  about  sleigh. 
You  said  to  bring  down  yer  team,  and  here 
she  is,  the  hull  of  it,  and  I  got  all  I  want  of 
it,  you  kin  betchyer  life  on  that."  The  tears 
began  to  come  to  the  desperate  boy's  eyes. 

"Zero,  I  am  surprised"  — 

"Wise?"  said  Zero.  "I  ain't  so  wise 
as  you  be.  Me  an'  The  Lady  are  both 
blarsted  fools  to  be  here  anyhow." 

"Dear  me!"  said  Corona,  "the  boy  is 
growing  up.  He  is  learning  to  swear." 
When  she  had  left,  last  fall,  Zero  was  as 
mild  as  a  clam. 

By  this  time  the  buggy  would  have  col- 


20  THE    WIDOWER 

lapsed  had  not  the  widower  plunged  and 
held  it  by  the  top  hinges. 

"I  kin  hold  on  jest  about  one  more  minnit 
with  that  dum'd  engine  puffin'  so ! "  inter- 
jected Zero. 

But  Hensleigh  had  already  jumped  into 
the  buggy  on  the  windward  side  and  held 
the  reins  with  a  practiced  hand.  "I  '11 
take  the  horse  around  to  the  stable  and  you 
start  on  in  the  coach.  You  '11  take  us  up 
on  the  way.  This  is  n't  safe  for  you.  Hurry 
up !  Get  in,  Zero !  " 

"Then  it  isn't  safe  for  you,"  pleaded 
Corona,  with  a  quiver  in  her  voice. 

"Oh  yes,  it  is,  the  snow  is  too  deep  to 
hurt,  anyway."  But  he  was  glad  she  was 
troubled  about  him. 

There  was  a  scramble.  The  boy  shot  in 
as  from  a  catapult.  There  was  a  prancing 
and  then  a  dash  forward.  The  buggy 
lurched,  and  Corona  gave  a  low  cry  of 
fright.  But  pretty  soon  the  horse,  finding 
its  master,  settled  down  to  a  less  dramatic 
coup  de  pied.  As  Corona  turned  to  the 


THE    WIDOWER  21 

Fairharbor  coach,  now  ridiculously  low  on 
its  unaccustomed  runners,  it  occurred  to  her 
that  Alexander  Hensleigh  was  just  the  kind 
of  a  man  she  needed  to  take  care  of  her. 

Mr.  Timbers,  clad  in  a  tremendous 
ulster,  was  stamping  his  feet  impatiently 
on  the  porch  of  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise. 
The  long,  easterly  swell  leaped  rhythmically 
upon  the  frosted  rocks,  lapping  the  snow 
higher  and  higher  with  the  tide.  At  last 
the  stage  struggled  off  the  traveled  road 
into  the  little  arc  that  bounded  Corona's 
cottage.  She  had  left  the  downs  past  their 
autumn  brilliancy  and  soberly  taking  on 
their  Turkish  coloring,  like  a  vast  rug,  and 
now  they  were  clothed  like  a  bride  in  daz- 
zling white. 

Zero  gave  a  whoop  and  landed  up  to  his 
waist.  Mr.  Hensleigh  drew  breath  and 
followed.  Mr.  Timbers  greeted  the  lady  of 
the  house  with  a  curve  on  his  lips  as  dry  as 
a  pine  shaving. 

"Hev  ye  got  the  key?"  Like  most  Fair- 
harbor  men,  Mr.  Timbers  spoke  very  loud. 


22  THE    WIDOWER 

"I  hev,  you  bet,"  said  Zero  proudly. 

"I  guess  we  'd  better  carry  her  in;  she  'd 
flounder,"  suggested  the  driver.  He  threw 
the  reins  over  the  horses'  backs  and  stepped 
off. 

"I  have  always  waded  through  my  own 
drifts,"  said  Corona  proudly. 

No  one  of  the  three  men  paid  the  least 
attention  to  her  remark.  At  a  word  from 
the  driver,  Mr.  Hensleigh  stepped  forward. 
The  two  men  picked  the  woman  up.  The 
gentleman's  jaw  was  closed  in  determina- 
tion. In  the  meanwhile  Zero  and  the  builder 
had  gone  around  and  unlocked  the  back 
door.  Mr.  Hensleigh  did  not  dare  to  look 
at  Corona  while  she  put,  according  to  the 
necessity  of  the  circumstances,  her  left  arm 
about  his  neck.  But  the  driver  had  no 
such  delicacy,  for  he  said :  — 

"Hold  on  tight,  miss!  Don't  let  your 
cable  slip,  or  ye  '11  be  swamped  sure." 

Obedient  to  her  orders,  her  left  arm  in- 
creased its  pressure,  and  the  widower  won- 
dered if  her  heart  beat  as  violently  as  his. 


THE    WIDOWER  23 

The  bright  day  from  the  front  and  back 
doors  met  in  the  dining-room.  The  house 
was  boarded  with  heavy  shutters,  and  except 
for  this  one  avenue  of  light  was  a  cavern 
of  blackness.  The  cottage,  that  was  as 
dainty  as  a  lady's  work-basket  in  summer, 
looked  like  a  dry  goods  box  in  winter. 

"Ye  can't  go  no  further,"  said  Zero  at 
the  threshold  of  the  little  dining-room. 
It's  up  to  the  rail  here."  But  Mr.  Tim- 
bers, the  builder,  swished  into  the  parlor, 
relying  on  his  rubber  boots.  Zero  hopped 
after.  The  driver  went  back  to  blanket  his 
horses,  and,  being  well  brought  up,  shut 
the  back  door  after  him.  Behind  Corona 
and  her  lover  was  a  throat  of  blackness. 
They  seemed  to  be  swallowed  up.  Before 
them  the  front  door,  opening  directly  into 
the  parlor,  cast  a  vivid  light.  The  winter 
sea  looked  in  strangely.  The  two  stood  to- 
gether in  the  doorway  of  the  dining-room 
and  peered  about.  The  builder  and  Zero 
were  busily  looking  around  the  parlor  for 
leaks.  Their  heads  were  turned.  Hens- 


24  THE    WIDOWER 

leigh  was  not  slow  to  perceive  this.  Uncon- 
sciously, or  perhaps  with  tenderness  pre- 
pense, the  visitor  drew  the  mistress  of  the 
house  toward  him;  while  she,  in  despair 
over  what  seemed  to  her  the  utter  ruin  and 
desolation  of  her  house,  suffered  his  sympa- 
thetic caress. 

The  builder  gave  a  low  whistle.  "It 
leaked  in  over  them  winders  and  down  the 
chimbley.  I  guess  I  '11  hev  to  tear  out 
them  frames.  I  wasn't  calculating  on  no 
sich  hurricane  as  this." 

"Why  doesn't  it  drain  through?"  asked 
Corona,  dabbling  with  the  tip  of  her  rubber 
on  the  flood  that  covered  the  parlor  floor. 
Happily,  her  straw  matting  had  been  taken 
up  when  the  house  was  closed. 

"This  flooring  is  as  tight  as  if  it  was 
caulked,"  replied  the  builder  proudly.  It 
seemed  to  him  as  if  it  were  a  great  point, 
that,  having  taken  in  water,  the  house 
should  hold  it. 

"You  seem  to  have  been  calculating  on 
its  raining  from  below,"  said  Hensleigh 


THE    WIDOWER  25 

dryly,  "or  perhaps  you  expected  a  tidal 
wave.  Why  can't  you  putty  up  the  seams 
and  put  a  double  coat  of  paint  over?  That 
ought  to  last  and  prevent  any  more  leaks," 
he  continued. 

"Thet  ain't  a  bad  idea.  Let  me  go  out 
and  see."  The  builder  went  out  on  the 
piazza.  Of  course,  Zero  followed.  What 
boy  would  n't  tag  after  a  mechanic  ? 

The  two  were  left  alone  for  the  first  time. 
Corona  thought  how  clever  he  was  to  sug- 
gest the  putty.  But  he  thought,  "Now  or 
never." 

This  time  he  asked  no  questions.  He 
simply  took  the  woman  in  his  arms. 

"It  's  no  use,  Corona,"  he  whispered. 
"I  love  you  so  I  can't  wait." 

"But,  Zero!"  she  fluttered. 

Now  when  a  woman  thinks  more  about 
what  people  will  say  than  about  her  own 
feelings,  a  man  may  know  that  she  is  not 
unwilling. 

"It  sha'n't  be  called  '  Old  Maid's  Para- 
dise' any  longer,  if  I  can  help  it,"  he  in- 


26  THE    WIDOWER 

sisted.     "When  shall  we  change  the  name, 

dear?  " 

"Not  yet.     Oh,  Alec,  not  yet,  dear! " 
"Shall     it     be     the    middle    of    June? 

Quick !  "     There  was  the  munching  of  feet 

on  the  furry  snow. 

"  Quick !     They  are  coming !  " 

"  Alec !     Don't  —  yes,  then  —  yes !  " 

It  was  all  over  in  that  moment.     Mr. 

Timbers  returned,  tramping  heavily.     Zero 

followed,  swishing  over  the  wet  floor  like  a 

school  of  herring. 

The  woman,  as  is  usual  in  an  embarrass- 
ing position,  was  the  first  to  recover  her 

self-possession. 

"I  '11  leave  the  whole  thing  to  you,  Mr. 

Timbers.     Do  as  you  please.     My  rubber 

leaks,  and  I  '11  have  to  get  out  of  this." 
"If  ye  'd  said  that  before,  ye  might  have 

saved  yer  car  fare,"  grunted  Mr.  Timbers. 
"Yes,  I  might,  but  if  I  had"-      The 

lady  did  not  finish  her  sentence. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE  WEDDING 

IT  was  a  resplendent  morning  of  the 
last  Saturday  of  June.  Corona  awoke  and 
looked  around  her.  Her  heart  beat  as  if 
she  were  going  to  her  execution  at  noon; 
but  the  sun  looked  in  about  the  blue  and 
white  room  as  if  she  were  going  to  Heaven. 

She  heard  heavy  steps  upon  the  stairs. 
The  edge  of  a  tray  knocked  on  the  door. 
Puelvir  walked  in.  Puelvir  was  Corona's 
nominal  cook  and  practical  duenna.  If  I 
may  inherit  the  statement  of  the  original 
documents,  Puelvir  was  Corona's  guide, 
philosopher,  and  friend.  Puelvir 's  face  was 
as  long  as  the  boom  of  a  cup  defender,  and, 
far  from  protecting  the  cup,  she  allowed 
her  tears  to  rain  copiously  into  the  coffee. 
Corona  observed  this  bridal  expression  with 
dismay. 


28  THE    WEDDING 

"Dear  me,  Puelvir,  what  is  the  matter 
with  you,  this  morning?" 

"I  —  I  wish  you  jo — boo  hoo — oy.  Oh, 
me!  Oh,  me!"  wailed  Puelvir.  "But  I 
don't  wish  him  none,"  she  added  viciously. 

"Thank  you,  Puelvir  —  I  am  surprised. 
I  thought  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me 
happy." 

Puelvir  doused  a  fist  into  her  eyes.  "I 
hain't  no  ob — bob — jection  to  seein'  you 
happy.  But  oh,  the  resk  on  't !  I  darsn't 
think  of  that!" 

Corona  turned  pale  at  this,  for  her  own 
heart  echoed  the  words. 

"Here,  take  it!"  Puelvir  plumped  the 
breakfast  tray  down  upon  the  bed.  "It's 
the  last  breakfast  I  '11  be  bringing  yer." 

"But,  Puelvir!"  cried  Corona,  —  "! 
thought  you  were  going  to  stay  by  me.  I 
couldn't  live  without  you." 

"I  hain't  seen  any  evidence  of  it.  I 
wish  I  had  n't  —  oh,  boo —  hoo —  had  n't 
turned  off  the  raspberry  man  for  you !  I  'd 
'a'  ben  a  bride  long  before  you  was.  Now 


THE    WEDDING  29 

he  's  got  that  widder  with  four  and  six  of 
his  own  into  the  bargain  —  and  you  've  ben 
an'  broke  our  bargain,  and  here  I  be!  " 

An  appalling  vision  of  being  deserted  by 
her  housemaid  on  her  wedding-day  swept 
over  Corona.  She  saw  herself  spending 
her  honeymoon  frying  cunners  and  teach- 
ing Alexander  to  set  the  table  and  wash 
the  dishes.  Puelvir  stood  stern  and  uncom- 
promising. 

"I  '11  see  you  through  the  ceremony,  any- 
how. I  suppose  ye  won't  want  to  see  me 
nor  nobody  after  that.  My  trunk  's  packed. 
I  sot  up  last  night  to  do  it.  Why  don't  ye 
drink  yer  coffee? " 

The  maid  looked  down  upon  her  mistress. 
What  did  she  see?  Tears  gathering  in 
those  dear  eyes  upon  their  wedding-day. 
Puelvir's  faithful  heart  melted  before  the 
sight  like  the  sugar  in  the  saucer  beneath 
her  tears. 

"Law,  Miss  Corona,  I  won't  —  there 
now!  I  won't,  nohow.  My  trunk  ain't 
packed,  neither.  That  was  a  whopper.  I 


30  THE    WEDDING 

would  n't  be  so  sneakin'  mean.  I  '11  stick 
by  you.  There 's  only  one  thing,"  said 
Puelvir,  swelling  grandly:  "Don't  you  ever 
ask  me  to  bring  his  breakfast  up  to  him. 
I  won't  do  it!" 

"Dear  me,  Puelvir,  I  don't  think  Mr. 
Hensleigh  would  ever  expect  it."  Corona 
blushed.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  Puelvir 
were  very  indelicate.  "He  is  not  at  all 
spoiled,"  pleaded  the  lady. 

"  He  will  be  soon  enough !  "  snapped  the 
maid. 

Then  Puelvir,  whether  from  remorse  for 
her  own  cruelty,  or  from  the  tenderness  of 
her  own  loyalty,  took  Corona's  delicate 
hand  in  her  red,  work-worn  fingers,  im- 
printed a  resounding  kiss  upon  it,  and  fled 
sobbing  from  the  room. 

Corona,  much  agitated,  ate  her  cold 
breakfast.  When  she  came  to  the  coffee 
she  found  it  noticeably  salt. 

The  door  opened  and  Matthew  Launce- 
lot  walked  in.  Matthew  was  Corona's  dog  ; 
he  had  acquired  a  mysterious  ability  to  open 


THE    WEDDING  31 

doors,  which  would  have  been  worth  fifty 
dollars  a  week  to  him  in  a  variety  show. 
He  had  practiced  on  the  doors  of  Paradise, 
which,  when  they  did  n't  stick,  would  n't 
latch.  This  habit  of  his  had  rather  disas- 
trous effects  upon  his  mistress  during  the 
period  of  her  betrothal,  and  as  the  little 
blackrand-tan  terrier  could  under  no  circum- 
stances be  taught  how  to  shut  a  door,  Mr. 
Hensleigh  had  formed  the  habit  of  putting 
chairs  against  the  doors  of  the  parlor  when- 
ever he  paid  his  respects  to  Corona. 

Matthew  and  Corona  passed  each  other 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  The  one  leaped 
upon  the  bed,  the  other  shut  the  door. 
(This  rhythmical  remark  may  be  pardoned 
to  the  general  agitation  of  the  wedding-day, 
which  overpowers  even  its  historian.)  Mat- 
thew was  in  the  habit  of  having  his  break- 
fast upstairs  with  his  mistress;  he  finished 
off  the  rolls,  begged  in  vain  for  the  chops, 
and  called  for  his  usual  cup  of  coffee. 

Corona,  as  she  gave  it  to  him,  patted  the 
dog  rather  wistfully.  "You  won't  desert 


32  THE    WEDDING 

me,  will  you,  dear?"  The  dog  looked  up 
into  her  face  and  shook  his  head.  He  was 
thinking  that  something  was  not  just  right 
that  morning  with  the  coffee.  Corona  was 
much  comforted,  for  she  had  the  feeling 
that  she  was  parting  from  all  her  old  friends. 

Tom  and  Susy  objected  on  general  prin- 
ciples to  Corona's  getting  married,  but  in 
particular  to  Corona's  being  married  in 
Fairharbor.  Tom,  Susy,  and  the  baby  were 
occupying  Corona's  only  guest  room.  This 
room  was  painted  green.  Susy  averred  that 
this  color  represented  the  mental  status  of 
the  family  at  that  particular  time.  She 
never  knew  decent  people  before  who  re- 
fused to  be  married  from  their  own  home. 

"But  this  is  my  home,"  Corona  had 
argued;  and  Tom  had  said,  "Let  the  girl 
do  as  she  wants,  and  charge  the  bills  to 
me." 

Mary  Sinuous,  an  old  friend  of  Corona's 
maiden  days,  had  torn  herself  away  from 
her  husband  in  Brooklyn  long  enough  to 
come  to  the  wedding,  and  to  spend  one 


THE    WEDDING  33 

sleepless  night  upon  the  sofa  in  the  parlor. 
Mary  had  added  to  the  interest  of  the  last 
night  before  Corona's  wedding  by  tumbling 
off  the  sofa  three  times.  Perhaps  the  sofa 
was  a  little  narrow  and  somewhat  slanting. 
It  had  been  courted  on  a  good  deal  during 
the  last  few  weeks,  and  the  springs  were 
not  at  their  best.  And  every  time  that 
Mary  fell,  Matthew  Launcelot,  who  had  ex- 
perience with  burglars,  set  up  an  ungodly 
barking.  This  made  the  baby  cry,  and 
Tom  say  things  that  percolated  through  the 
matched-board  cottage.  Take  it  all  in  all, 
it  was  not  a  comfortable  night,  and  the 
family  was  glad  to  get  up. 

The  wedding  was  appointed  at  one 
o'clock.  The  widower's  brother,  a  clergy- 
man of  a  celibate  disposition,  but  of  un- 
doubted family  loyalty,  came  from  a  flour- 
ishing parish  in  a  distant  part  of  the  State 
to  perform  the  ceremony.  These  two  stayed 
at  the  hotel,  and  presented  themselves  at 
intervals  with  a  shamefaced  consciousness 
of  inferiority  which  is  characteristic  of  the 


34  THE    WEDDING 

masculine  gender  at  such  a  time.  The 
widower  was  seen  that  morning  by  the 
neighbors  aimlessly  taking  trips  to  and  fro 
on  the  Fairharbor  ferry,  and  looking  as 
pale  as  a  new  mainsail.  His  brother,  from 
time  to  time,  would  slap  him  vigorously 
upon  the  back. 

"Heavens,  Alec,  cheer  up!"  he  would 
say.  "You  ought  to  be  used  to  it  by  this 
time.  Now  if  it  were  I" —  But  the  jo- 
coseness  of  the  clerical  gentleman  fell  as 
flat  as  a  sinker,  and  he  perceived  that  it  is 
not  good  form  even  for  a  brother  to  re- 
mind a  man  of  his  first  wedding-day  upon 
the  morning  of  his  second. 

But  Corona  had  no  other  wedding-day  to 
think  of.  And  Susy  thought  of  the  guests, 
while  Tom  managed  the  caterer.  That  col- 
ored gentleman  had  arrived  from  a  distin- 
guished firm  in  Boston  on  the  early  train, 
and  took  immediate  possession  of  the  house. 
Consequently,  such  of  the  family  as  were 
not  favored  with  breakfast  in  their  bed- 
rooms had  to  eat  it  where  they  could.  It 


THE    WEDDING  35 

should  be  remembered  that  the  main  house 
was  only  twenty  feet  cube.  Tom  ate  his 
chops  on  the  hogshead  cover  by  the  back 
door.  While  he  was  doing  this  the  caterer 
approached  with  a  face  as  nearly  pale  as  is 
possible  to  a  frightened  African. 

"I  declare,  sir,  they  have  forgotten  the 
patties.  What  shall  I  do?  " 

"What  kind  of  patties?  " 

"Chicken,  sir." 

"Then  telegraph  immediately  to  have 
them  sent  right  out  on  the  10.45  by  a  spe- 
cial messenger.  I  never  heard  of  a  wed- 
ding without  patties.  Have  you?"  sternly. 

"No,"  replied  the  bewildered  caterer,  "I 
never  have,  sir." 

"I  don't  believe  the  ceremony  would  be 
legal,"  replied  Tom  authoritatively.  "I 
cannot  have  my  sister  married  without  pat- 
ties." 

The  caterer  was  working  miracles  in  the 
little  toy  house.  The  dining-room  was  nine 
feet  by  ten.  The  caterer  had  the  delicacy 
not  to  intimate  that  this  was  not  a  spacious 


36  THE    WEDDING 

apartment.  He  made  it  look  ninety  by  a 
hundred. 

Puelvir  eyed  the  caterer  with  scorching 
distrust,  and  told  him  she  supposed  her 
silver  and  doilies  were  not  good  enough  for 
him.  Matthew  Launcelot,  on  the  contrary, 
took  a  fancy  to  the  caterer.  How  far  this 
could  be  explained  by  the  disappearance  of 
a  lobster  croquette  and  two  macaroons  has 
never  been  accurately  determined. 

And  now  the  guests  began  to  arrive. 
They  were  not  very  many.  They  might 
have  been  hundreds,  but  they  were  com- 
prised almost  within  the  first  ten  numerals. 
This  surprising  limitation  was  purely  a 
matter  of  mathematics.  The  parlor  of  Par- 
adise could  not  prettily  hold  more  than  a 
dozen  people,  and  Corona  would  be  married 
in  that  parlor. 

Mrs.  Rowin,  Zero's  mother,  came  first. 
Corona  had  sent  Zero  for  her  with  The 
Lady  of  Shalott  and  the  buggy.  The  Lady 
of  Shalott  was  then  tied  to  the  clothes-post, 
so  that  no  member  of  the  family  might  be 


THE    WEDDING  37 

absent  from  the  ceremony.  Corona  re- 
quested that  the  window  be  open,  so  that 
The  Lady  could  look  in.  Zero  followed  in 
his  best  clothes.  He  calmly  took  up  his 
position  under  the  canopy  of  Cape  Ann 
roses  especially  prepared  for  the  bride. 
Tom  marched  him  out  of  it  and  deposited 
him  behind  the  stove,  where  Zero  stood  up 
straight  against  the  wall  and  upset  twenty- 
four  bride's  roses  and  a  vase  on  a  bracket 
that  hung  too  low. 

An  old  friend  of  the  bride's,  known  to 
prehistoric  tradition  as  Effie,  drove  over 
from  Wolchester  with  a  span,  and  reflected 
a  pale  glory  of  the  world  which  just  saved 
the  occasion. 

Father  Morrison,  otherwise  known  as  the 
lobster  man,  to  Susy's  silent  despair  and 
Puelvir's  audible  disgust,  had  received 
cards  for  the  wedding;  but  Effie  had  met 
him  at  a  housewarming  in  the  cottage  some 
years  ago,  and  asked  him  to  sit  by  her  side 
upon  the  sofa.  Father  Morrison  felt  that 
he  was  the  guest  of  honor. 


38  THE    WEDDING 

It  was  a  solemn  question  what  to  do  with 
Matthew  Launcelot.  Corona  wanted  him 
present,  but  Alexander,  who  was  not  a 
favorite  with  the  terrier,  dryly  suggested 
that  he  did  n't  care  to  be  snapped  at  while 
he  was  putting  the  ring  on,  and  advised 
that  the  dog  be  sequestered. 

"I  won't  have  the  critter  in  the  kitchen 
on  a  day  like  this,'*  said  Puelvir  sternly. 
"The  hogshead  is  covered.  Tie  him  up 
atop  on't.  He  '11  set  there  very  comfort- 
able." 

Corona  had  secret  doubts  on  the  subject. 
But  Tom  drove  a  nail  up,  fastened  one  end 
of  a  rope  to  it,  and  the  other  to  the  dog's 
collar,  and  Matthew  Launcelot  sullenly  ac- 
cepted this  obloquy. 

But  Corona  lingered  upstairs  in  her  room 
as  long  as  she  could.  She  felt  as  if  she 
might  never  again  be  alone.  She  wished 
she  had  a  mother,  before  whom  she  could 
kneel  at  this  supreme  moment,  and  of  whose 
blessing  she  could  be  sure!  But  thoughts 
like  these  bring  tears,  and  tears  must  not 
come  now. 


THE    WEDDING  39 

Corona  threw  up  the  shade,  and  then 
opened  the  window.  She  did  not  know  it, 
but  she  had  looked  before  this  like  a  white 
ghost.  Now  the  sun  touched  her  with 
color,  and  made  her  human.  Before  her 
the  bay  glittered  in  the  soft  breeze.  The 
water  looked  like  ruffled  velvet.  The  ex- 
panse that  once  typified  the  limitless  to  her 
mind,  seemed  contracted  beside  the  vastness 
that  the  happy  future  spread  before  her 
imagination.  She  turned  away.  She  could 
not  bear  the  sea  at  that  moment. 

Her  eyes  fell  upon  her  favorite  books. 
There  was  the  Bible  which  she  read  every 
night.  There  was  her  inseparable  Robert- 
son, There  was  her  dearest  Tennyson  and 
her  Shakespeare  in  ten  blue  volumes,  to 
match  the  room.  She  crossed  over  and 
took  up  her  Bible  and  patted  it,  and  then 
with  an  impulsive  movement  put  her  cheek 
against  its  worn  cover.  "Dear,  dear  little 
room!"  she  thought.  "No  matter  what 
the  future  is,  no  one  can  take  me  away  from 
these  old  friends." 


40  THE    WEDDING 

Her  sister-in-law  had  said  to  her  one  day, 
"  Have  you  thought,  Co,  what  it  is  going  to 
mean  to  give  up  your  freedom?"  As  Susy 
queened  it  utterly  over  Tom  and  over  the 
whole  family,  this  remark  had  not  struck 
Corona  as  one  of  those  aphorisms  which  are 
born  of  experience.  But  now  it  came  back 
to  her.  Give  up  her  freedom  —  everything  ? 
Yes!  ten  thousand  times!  " 

"Coro!  Coro!"  Susy's  positive  voice, 
softened  into  a  ceremonious  whisper,  rever- 
berated up  the  stairs.  The  bride  started. 
She  forgot  to  look  in  the  mirror,  or  she 
would  have  seen  that  her  cheeks  were  as 
white  as  her  wedding  dress.  Her  time  had 
come!  She  opened  the  door.  There  was 
a  whisk  of  retreating  petticoats,  and  on  the 
landing,  quite  by  himself,  stood  Alexander 
the  Conqueror.  The  man  swept  his  beauti- 
ful bride  with  one  swift  glance.  Then  an 
expression  of  reverence  and  humility  settled 
upon  his  face. 

They  walked  into  their  own  parlor  with- 


THE    WEDDING  41 

out  ushers  or  bridesmaids.  The  front  door, 
leading  directly  into  the  room,  was  open. 
The  minister  faced  them  solemnly.  The 
sea  looked  in,  like  an  uninvited  guest,  that 
loved  the  bride  too  much  to  stay  away. 

Puelvir,  dressed  in  black  alpaca,  with  jet 
bracelets  and  lace  mitts,  and  weeping  pro- 
fusely, followed  her  mistress.  The  caterer 
stood  in  the  dining-room  door. 

Tom  looked  from  guest  to  guest  about 
the  room,  and  then  glanced  apprehensively 
at  his  wife.  These  natural  protectors  of 
the  bride  had  made  a  fearful  discovery  — 
there  were  thirteen  in  the  room!  Should 
they  speak  about  it,  or  not?  But  Corona 
and  Tom  always  understood  each  other  with- 
out talking.  Her  quick  eye  had  taken  it 
all  in. 

"  Get  in  Matthew  Launcelot !  He  '11 
make  fourteen,"  she  whispered  to  her  bro- 
ther. But  Susy  received  this  proposition 
with  scorn.  Meanwhile  the  minister,  with 
the  indifference  of  his  class  to  heathen 
superstitions,  had  noticed  nothing.  He 


42  THE    WEDDING 

had  a  beautiful  marriage  ceremony  of  his 
own,  and  before  anybody  realized  it  he  had 
begun  to  read  it  with  a  deep  voice.  Tom, 
who  had  actually  started  for  the  dog,  was 
arrested  halfway  to  the  door.  The  Rev. 
Mr.  Hensleigh's  preliminary  selection  of 
Scripture  verses  was  dignified  and  impres- 
sive. Upon  every  face  in  the  room  there 
had  already  settled  a  serious  look.  The 
groom,  with  trembling  fingers,  was  taking 
the  wedding  -  ring  out  of  his  waistcoat 
pocket.  The  bride's  heart  was  tempestu- 
ously beating,  "I  will,  I  will,  I  will." 
Could  she  say  it  so  that  anybody  could 
hear? 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  cowhide 
boots  thundered  over  the  piazza  and  drowned 
the  clergyman's  tones. 

"Hullo!"  cried  a  husky  voice,  "here's 
them  patties  from  Boston,  Miss  Corona, 
and  I  want  forty  cents  for  bringin'  of  'em 
over  on  a  special  trip ! "  Alas,  it  was  the 
local  expressman,  to  whom  the  caterer's 
messenger  had  ignominiously  delegated  his 
sacred  duty. 


TEE    WEDDING  43 

The  bride's  lips  twitched.  How  dread- 
ful if  she  should  laugh!  The  minister 
blushed.  An  awful  hush  interrupted  that 
wedding  ceremony.  Tears  of  mortification 
sprang  to  Susy's  eyes.  "This  comes,"  she 
thought,  "of  being  married  in  a  clam 
shell."  But  Tom  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 
This  man  of  the  world  marched  up  to  the 
expressman  and  took  him  by  the  collar  and 
shook  him. 

"At  peril  of  your  life,"  he  muttered, 
"don't  you  speak  again  until  you  're  spoken 
to !  Stand  just  where  you  are,  and  take  off 
your  hat! "  Tom  came  back  into  the  parlor 
serenely.  "He  makes  fourteen,"  he  said 
aloud;  "let  him  be." 

The  embarrassed  minister  began  over 
again.  The  expressman  carefully  deposited 
the  chicken  patties  in  his  hat,  and  stood 
with  his  mouth  open.  The  ceremony  pro- 
ceeded bravely.  He  willed  and  she  willed; 
the  ring  was  on  and  they  were  one.  Cor- 
ona looked  very  sweet  and  happy.  Why 
did  everybody  cry? 


44  THE    WEDDING 

The  minister's  grave  voice  ceased.  A 
delicate  spell  lay  over  that  unworldly  wed- 
ding. The  caterer's  eyes  were  large.  "The 
prettiest  I  ever  saw,"  he  whispered  to 
Puelvir.  Nobody  else  had  spoken. 

It  now  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  record 
that  sharp  upon  this  sacred  silence  a  fear- 
ful shriek  uprose.  This  was  followed  by  a 
spluttering  and  gurgling  such  as  only  the 
throat  of  the  drowning  could  emit. 

"It's  Matthew  Launcelot!  Run,  Puel- 
vir!" These  were  the  first  audible  words 
uttered  by  Corona  in  the  capacity  of  a  mar- 
ried woman. 

Puelvir  ran.  She  left  the  doors  all  open. 
"It's  him  in  the  hogshead!"  she  called 
back  at  the  top  of  her  lungs.  "The  crit- 
ter 's  drownin' !  He  's  sunk  the  third  time !  " 

The  dog,  outraged  at  being  shut  out  from 
the  bosom  of  his  family  on  such  an  impor- 
tant occasion,  had  overturned  the  cover  of 
the  hogshead  and  had  slipped  in.  Hang- 
ing by  his  rope,  he  was,  in  truth,  drowning 
as  fast  as  he  conveniently  could.  Puelvir 


THE    WEDDING  45 

hauled  him  out  as  if  he  had  been  a  rock 
cod,  untied  him,  cuffed  him  on  both  ears, 
and  let  him  go.  Matthew  Launcelot  made 
one  dive  for  the  bridal  company.  He  was 
careful  not  to  rid  himself  of  any  superflu- 
ous water  until  he  got  into  the  parlor,  when 
he  shook  himself  vigorously  all  over  Susy. 
Then  he  ran  right  up  to  the  bride.  She 
stooped  to  comfort  him.  The  dog  put  his 
wet  arms  around  Corona's  neck,  and  she 
allowed  him.  Thus  all  the  family  were 
present  at  the  wedding. 

"What  are  you  waiting  here  for?"  said 
Tom  to  the  expressman  half  an  hour  after. 

"Them  forty  cents,"  replied  the  express- 
man sadly.  "I  wouldn't  'a'  waited,  only 
she  told  me  I  must  never  run  up  a  bill.  I 
wish  her  joy,  anyhow." 

Corona  instinctively  felt  for  her  pocket- 
book  in  her  wedding  dress.  But  Alexander 
Hensleigh,  with  a  grand  air  of  possession, 
took  out  a  two-dollar  bill  and  handed  it  to 
the  expressman. 

"This  lady's  bills  are  mine  now,"  he  said 
with  a  new  face. 


46  THE    WEDDING 

"I  always  like  to  be  among  good  folks," 
spoke  up  Father  Morrison  at  this  crisis; 
"misery  loves  company." 

But  the  bride  gave  her  husband  a  beauti- 
ful look.  She  felt  as  if  no  one  could  notice 
it,  and  he  hoped  that  no  one  did. 

Then,  when  Tom  came  up  and  offered  her 
a  chicken  patty,  and  called  her  "Mrs.  Hens- 
leigh,"  she  understood  that  she  was  a  mar- 
ried woman. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   WEDDING   JOURNEY 

THE  coach  had  carried  off  the  wedding 
guests.  Only  Zero  and  Father  Morrison 
were  left. 

"I  wish  ye  a  pleasant  trip,"  said  the  lob- 
ster man,  dipping  his  head  like  a  Cape  boat 
in  a  ground  swell.  Father  Morrison  meant 
"trip"  in  the  nautical  sense,  like  a  trip  to 
the  Grand  Banks.  But  the  bride  laughed 
gayly  as  she  thanked  her  old  neighbor.  She 
understood  the  word  in  the  marriage  sense. 

"  I  suppose  ye  '11  be  back  in  time  for 
herrin',"  added  the  old  man.  "I  'd  rather 
be  miser'ble  in  good  company  than  happy 
in  bad."  Corona  hardly  knew  whether  to 
take  this  as  a  prophecy  of  ill  fortune  or 
not.  But  Father  Morrison,  feeling  that  he 
had  given  the  couple  his  best  benediction, 
hobbled  up  the  path  to  his  little  home. 


48  THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY 

Corona  and  Alexander  had  at  least  one 
conviction  in  common.  Neither  of  them  be- 
lieved in  the  old  shoe  and  the  rice  business 
as  a  necessary  conclusion  of  the  wedding 
ceremony. 

"It  is  undignified,"  said  Corona  senten- 
tiously, 

"It  is  dangerous,"  echoed  Alexander  sci- 
entifically. "I  once  knew  a  fellow  to  have 
a  piece  of  rice  lodge  in  his  ear.  It  was  the 
year  before"  — 

"  How  dreadful,  Alec !     It  did  n't "  - 

"Yes,  it  did.  He  became  deaf,  and  all 
his  wife's  scolding  was  lost  upon  him." 

"And  all  her  dearness,  too,"  Corona  an- 
swered, with  a  happy  look.  So  it  had  been 
decided  to  reverse  the  usual  order  of  things. 

"The  rest  can  take  the  4.10  train,  and 
we  can  follow  on  the  5.03,  if  we  must  have 
a  wedding  trip,  Alec;  and  we  will  drive 
over  with  The  Lady  of  Shalott  and  send 
the  baggage  ahead  by  the  coach."  Thus 
the  lady  decided  the  matter.  But  further 
she  would  take  no  responsibility.  In  her 


THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY  49 

heart  of  hearts  she  wanted  to  spend  her 
honeymoon  in  Paradise,  by  the  great  waters, 
in  her  own  dear  home.  But  her  husband 
could  not  understand  the  simplicity  of  such 
a  wish.  He  mentioned  Niagara;  followed 
this  fossil  bridal  suggestion  by  a  casual  hint 
about  Alaska;  threw  out  ominous  insinua- 
tions about  San  Francisco,  Mexico,  and  New 
Orleans,  and  ended  by  a  bold  plea  for  a 
yachting  trip  to  Cape  Breton.  Corona's 
heart  was  faint  at  the  suggestion  of  these 
endless  wanderings,  and  she  utterly  refused 
to  be  told  what  his  plans  were.  She  made 
only  one  condition :  that  he  should  buy  no 
long-distance  tickets  in  advance. 

Zero  stood  at  The  Lady's  head.  He  was 
to  take  the  ferry  over  to  the  station  and 
bring  the  horse  back.  His  face,  usually 
stolid  with  the  inherited  woe  of  generations 
of  fisher  folk,  was  now  expanded  to  its 
uttermost  expression.  Zero  wore  the  smiles 
of  a  lifetime;  for  the  chance  of  a  lifetime 
had  been  his.  Croquettes  and  patties,  ice 
cream  and  cake  left  over,  fruits  and  coffee 


60  TEE    WEDDING  JOURNEY 

and  candies  had  contributed  in  fabulous 
quantities  to  his  ecstatic  condition.  Zero 
could  not  have  run  to  a  fire;  but  he  had 
known  one  day  of  perfect  bliss,  and  that  is 
more  than  many  wiser  than  Zero  can  say. 

Puelvir,  with  Matthew  Launcelot  tied  to 
a  string,  stood  upon  the  little  piazza  sob- 
bing. 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  got  everything?  " 
Alexander  turned  to  his  bride  with  the  cau- 
tion of  an  old  traveler.  "  We  may  not  be 
back  for  a  long  time;  possibly  not  for  a 
month." 

"Perhaps  it  won't  be  more  than  two 
weeks,  dear.  How  can  you  leave  such  a 
lovely  spot?  Look  out  there!"  Corona 
shaded  her  eyes  and  glanced  out  upon  the 
sea.  The  sun  gleamed  over  the  western 
coast.  The  whistling  buoy  moaned  faintly 
from  around  the  Point,  as  if  protesting 
against  her  departure.  Even  then  the  ori- 
ginality and  the  comfort  of  not  doing  ex- 
actly what  all  married  couples  do  did  not 
dawn  upon  the  man's  mind.  It  had  always 


THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY  51 

been  a  wonder  to  Corona  that  newly-wedded 
couples  did  not  absolutely  loathe  each  other 
after  the  regulation  journey  —  the  nauseat- 
ing travel,  the  buffet  food,  the  vulgar 
hotel.  "  What  a  horrible  way  of  beginning 
life  together!"  she  thought;  and  now  her 
turn  had  come,  and  where  were  all  her 
ideals?  Alexander  did  not  answer,  but 
Matthew  did,  while  Puelvir  —  as  if  it  were 
the  dog  who  was  crying  —  jerked  him  up 
violently  by  the  string. 

"You'll  be  very  careful  of  him,"  said 
Corona.  "Don't  let  him  out  without  watch- 
ing, and  always  lead  him  when  you  go  to 
walk;  and  look  out  for  the  house.  You 
had  better  stay  right  here,  as  we  may  be 
back  any  day.  We  will  telegraph  in  plenty 
of  time."  Corona  was  used  to  managing, 
and  this  was  her  house,  and  Puelvir  was 
hers. 

"I  '11  sot  right  at  the  kitchen  winder  'n' 
watch  for  that  Christian  Union  Telegraph 
boy,"  wailed  Puelvir,  "for  I  sha'n't  hev 
nothin'  else  to  do  'thout  it 's  runnin'  after 


52  THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY 

this  here  critter.  What  '11 1  do  if  he  breaks 
away  on  me  to  f oiler  after  yer?  He  's 
capable  on't." 

"At  last!  "  said  Hensleigh  exultingly,  as 
he  placed  his  bride  in  the  buggy,  and  took 
the  reins.  Corona  looked  back.  There 
stood  her  own  plain  Paradise,  and  there 
stood  her  faithful  Puelvir  convulsively  wav- 
ing a  flopping  handkerchief  —  and  there 
was  Matthew  Launcelot  yapping  out  his 
broken  black-and-tan  heart.  It  seemed  to 
Corona,  and  her  eyes  grew  suddenly  moist, 
that  she  had  left  the  whole  world  behind. 
Then  she  turned  to  her  husband.  A  new 
world  lay  before  her.  The  bride  brushed 
his  shoulder  with  her  cheek.  He  answered 
her  not  in  words.  From  that  moment  he 
could  have  taken  her  into  the  furthest  wil- 
derness, for  Paradise  was  with  him. 

When  they  reached  the  station  Corona 
noticed  that  she  was  the  centre  of  observa- 
tion. This  annoyed  her  exceedingly;  she 
had  never  been  a  bride  before. 

"It 's  this  new  traveling-dress,"  she  said. 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  53 

"I  ought  to  have  had  my  own  way  and 
worn  an  old  one."  She  glanced  down  at 
the  pretty  dove-colored  cloth  skirt.  "I'll 
go  and  check  the  baggage,  Alec,"  she  said 
with  a  burning  face,  "while  you  are  getting 
the  tickets."  The  instinct  of  many  inde- 
pendent years  looked  out  of  the  bride's 
eyes;  but  the  instinct  of  generations  of 
masculine  supremacy  replied  from  the  eyes 
of  the  groom. 

"You  stay  just  where  you  are,"  he  said 
quietly;  "I  am  fully  capable  of  checking 
my  wife's  baggage  in  addition  to  my  own." 

"Oh,"  said  Corona,  "I  never  thought  of 
that !  You  see  I  have  taken  care  of  myself 
a  good  while." 

"You  must  learn  to  be  taken  care  of 
now,"  her  husband  said. 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  mingled  anxiety 
and  relief  that  Corona  settled  back  into  her 
seat.  The  car  was  warm,  and  Alexander 
devotedly  helped  her  off  with  her  pretty 
jacket  and  hung  it  upon  the  rack.  The 
train  moved  off  slowly,  and  Corona  looked 


54  THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

out  of  the  southern  window,  dreamily  watch- 
ing for  the  last  view  of  the  harbor  and  her 
little  home. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  shriek  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  car,  and  an  extraordinary 
commotion  seemed  to  have  set  in  among  the 
passengers.  The  brakeman  was  in  violent 
altercation  with  somebody. 

"  Here,  you  !  Stop  there !  Hi !  Catch 
him !  Get  off !  You've  no  business  aboard ! " 

"It's  one  of  the  Fairharbor  drunkards. 
Poor  fellow !  "  sighed  Corona. 

"Mad  dog!"  came  the  startling  cry. 
Everybody  jumped  to  his  feet.  Hensleigh 
threw  himself  in  an  attitude  of  protection 
before  his  wife.  A  black  shadow  scurried 
down  the  aisle.  This  was  followed  by  a 
beardless  brakeman  and  the  conductor  of 
the  white  mustache.  Past  the  terrified  pas- 
sengers, skillfully  eluding  his  pursuers, 
darting  under  the  arms  of  the  infuriated 
husband,  a  little  black-and-tan  figure  leaped 
—  sprang  upon  the  bride,  all  over  her  beau- 
tiful dress,  and  laid  his  head  upon  her  deli- 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  55 

cate  silk  blouse.  It  was  Matthew  Launce- 
lot. 

"The  d dog!"  said  Hensleigh  set- 
tling back  with  a  groan. 

"You  dear  thing!"  cried  Corona,  unty- 
ing the  piece  of  chewed -off  rope  from  the 
terrier's  collar.  "What  a  hard  time  you  've 
had !  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you !  " 

"I'm  not,"  said  Hensleigh  brutally,  "I 
wish  he  were  in  —  at  —  home !  " 

"So  he's  yours,  Miss"  —  said  the  con- 
ductor, nodding  to  his  well-remembered 
passenger. 

"This  is  Mrs.  Hensleigh,"  interrupted 
Alexander  with  an  air  of  great  offense. 

"Beg  pardon,"  said  the  conductor.  "I 
wish  you  well,  I  'm  sure;  it  isn't  usual  to 
take  'em  on  such  trips.  Some  of  the  pas- 
sengers got  the  idea  he  's  mad." 

"I  can  heave  him  over  the  Cut!"  cried 
the  brakeman. 

"You'll  heave  me  over  too!"  flashed 
Corona.  She  clasped  Matthew  Launcelot 
firmly  to  her  heart. 


56  THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

"Put  him  off!"  came  a  shout  from  the 
other  end  of  the  car.  Now  the  object  of 
all  this  commotion  was  quite  indifferent  to 
it,  but  busily  divided  his  tune  between  kiss- 
ing his  mistress  and  snarling  at  Mr.  Hens- 
leigh  and  the  brakeman. 

"This  is  unbearable!  "  muttered  Alexan- 
der between  his  teeth.  "No  hotel  in  the 
land  would  take  a  dog  like  this !  " 

"It  is  too  bad,"  said  Corona  soothingly. 
"What  shall  we  do?  Of  course,  we  can't 
travel  with  him." 

"Perhaps  they  '11  take  him  in  at  Barker's. 
I  know  them  pretty  well,  and  we  can  send 
him  back  by  express  to-morrow." 

"By  no  means!"  cried  Corona.  "They 
put  them  in  dungeons  down  in  the  base- 
ment. Matthew  would  die,  and  you  know 
he  can't  bear  an  expressman.  I  don't  see 
any  way  but  that  we  '11  have  to  get  off  at 
West  Fairharbor  and  take  him  home." 

"Well,"  sighed  the  bridegroom  patiently, 
"it 's  asking  a  good  deal  of  a  fellow;  but  I 
suppose  we  can  take  the  late  train." 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  57 

"Here  you  are,  then!"  cried  the  brake- 
man. 

"I  'm  very  sorry,"  said  the. conductor. 

An  audible  sigh  of  relief  arose  from  the 
passengers  as  this  bridal  party  prepared  to 
leave  the  train.  Hensleigh's  expression 
was  a  cross  between  humiliation  and  fury. 
But  Corona  and  Matthew  Launcelot  looked 
perfectly  contented. 

The  only  inhabitant  of  West  Fairharbor 
seemed  to  be  the  station-master,  who  re- 
garded the  wedding  party  sternly.  Corona, 
forgetting  that  she  had  a  husband,  marched 
up  to  the  man  and  confidingly  said :  — 

"I  suppose  the  next  train  will  take  us 
back  in  half  an  hour?  " 

"None  don't  stop  here  fur  two  hours, 
mum;  I  've  got  to  go  home  to  supper,"  was 
the  grim  reply;  and  deigning  to  take  no 
further  notice  of  the  passengers,  the  agent 
locked  the  station  and  lounged  away.  Co- 
rona and  Alexander  looked  at  each  other, 
and  then  at  Matthew  Launcelot. 

"I   should  think  you  might  know  your 


58  THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

own  country,"  began  Hensleigh  impatiently, 
and  then  stopped,  biting  his  lip,  for  he 
remembered  that  he  was  a  bridegroom. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  said  Corona  humbly.  She 
bent  over  and  kissed  Matthew,  as  if  that 
helped  the  matter.  She  dropped  upon  the 
baggage  truck,  looking  very  much  troubled. 

Before  her  an  inlet  of  the  harbor  began 
to  be  gilded  in  the  setting  sun.  It  was  a 
tortuous  stream  that  connected  two  bays, 
and  which  made  an  island  of  Fairharbor 
and  the  Cape.  Great  stretches  of  marsh 
were  disappearing  before  the  rising  tide. 
Green  hummocks  were  nodding  their  hair 
for  the  last  time  before  they  went  under  for 
the  night.  Near  the  station  was  an  inlet  to 
an  inlet;  but  the  harbor  was  out  of  sight 
three  miles  and  more  away  to  the  south. 

"I  suppose  we  can  camp  here,"  said 
Alexander  grimly.  "This  truck,  a  settee, 
and  a  flour  barrel  are  about  all  the  assets  of 
the  situation.  The  flour  barrel  seems  to  be 
empty,  and  to  save  any  further  complica- 
tions I  move  we  put  the  dog  in  there  and 
head  him  up." 


THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY  59 

But  Matthew  Launcelot  was  not  so  easily 
to  be  disposed  of.  He  had  brought  them 
into  this  predicament;  he  had  spoiled  the 
wedding-  journey.  The  position  was  indeed 
a  serious  one.  But  it  was  Matthew's  good 
luck  to  bring  them  out.  He  began  to  bark 
furiously,  and  ran  down  through  a  pine 
grove  toward  the  shore.  Corona  followed, 
and  her  husband,  with  a  sardonic  expres- 
sion of  the  features,  brought  up  the  rear 
leisurely.  The  bridal  procession  arrived  at 
the  beach.  Hensleigh  suggested  that  all 
that  was  needed  was  a  band,  and  began  to 
whistle  a  few  bars  from  "Lohengrin." 

But  Matthew  had  made  a  momentous  dis- 
covery. It  was  nothing  less  than  a  man 
and  a  dory. 

"Stop!"  cried  Corona.  "Where  are 
you  going?  " 

"I'm  goin'  to  Twenty  Poun'  Island  as 
soon  as  I  can  shove  her  off." 

Hensleigh  opened  his  mouth  to  speak, 
but  Corona  went  on  with  beautiful  uncon- 
sciousness :  — 


60  THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

"Won't  you  take  us?  There  are  only 
three  —  I  mean  two." 

The  fisherman  looked  at  the  group  suspi- 
ciously, and  grudgingly  said :  — 

"Well,  I  mought,  if  ye  '11  leave  the  dog 
behind." 

"Sensible  man!  "  This  was  Hensleigh's 
first  chance  to  speak,  and  he  made  the  most 
of  it.  Then,  gently  putting  his  wife  to  one 
side,  he  closed  a  whispered  bargain  with 
the  owner  of  the  dory. 

"He  won't  take  us  any  further  than  the 
Island,  and  only  on  condition  that  you  put 
the  dog  in  the  stern  locker  and  sit  on  him," 
explained  Hensleigh.  "And  how  in  thun- 
der are  we  to  get  home  from  there?  " 

"  Oh,  delightful !  "  cried  Corona.  "  Why, 
I  know  every  fisherman  in  the  harbor,  and 
any  of  them  will  take  us  over.  They  '11  be 
just  coming  home  from  their  traps." 

"I'd  rather  they  wouldn't  all  see  us," 
suggested  Alexander,  helping  his  wife  in 
from  the  sedgy  bank;  "I  do  hope  it  won't 
get  out  in  the  papers." 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  61 

The  bride  and  groom  sat  on  the  thwart 
together.  Except  for  the  rising  of  the  tide, 
and  for  the  eddying  currents,  the  water  was 
motionless.  They  might  just  as  well  have 
been  alone,  for  the  fisherman  rowed  with 
his  body  half  and  his  head  wholly  turned 
away.  He  was  not  thinking  of  his  passen- 
gers. He  was  intent  upon  the  straightest 
channel. 

And  now  the  outline  of  the  western  hills 
grew  purple  and  black,  and  now  a  hundred 
windows  of  the  city  ahead  reflected  the  de- 
parting glory  of  the  sun  with  a  brilliance 
that  dazzled  and  elated  at  once.  Then  a 
turn  in  the  channel,  and  the  passengers  in 
the  dory  were  face  to  face  with  the  gorgeous 
tints  that  the  clouds  above  the  setting  sun 
threw  upon  the  vitreous  surface  of  the  mo- 
tionless water.  Peace  rested  upon  sea  and 
land.  Even  the  dog  was  awed  into  silence. 
All  the  irritation  and  disappointment  were 
fanned  away  from  the  hearts  of  these  two 
people  who  loved  each  other  better  than  all 
the  world.  They  sat  together  —  with  hands 


62  THE    WEDDING  JOURXK)' 

clasped  —  not  talking,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes,  and  into  the  face  of  the  purple 
horizon.  It  occurred  to  Corona  that  this 
bridal  trip  was  typical  of  the  married  life 
before  her:  plenty  of  little  things  moving 
in  the  current  with  the  big  ones  —  little 
troubles,  little  disappointments,  little  frets, 
but  all  borne  —  how  easily !  —  upon  the 
great  sea  of  love.  They  were  startled  by 
the  grating  of  the  keel. 

"Here  you  are!  Out  with  you!"  The 
fisherman  held  his  dory  firmly  with  his  oar. 

There  was  another  dory  pulled  up  on  the 
beach.  It  was  an  old  black  boat  with  a 
green  streak. 

"Why,  that's  Father  Morrison!"  ob- 
served Corona  suddenly.  "He  's  leaving 
lobsters  at  the  lighthouse." 

"Thank  God!  "  said  Hensleigh  devoutly. 
"  I  begin  to  see  my  way  clear  for  the  first 
time  since  we  have  started  on  our  wedding 
journey.  I  believe  we  can  catch  the  nine 
o'clock  train,  after  all." 

Corona  made  no  reply. 


THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY  63 

Father  Morrison  came  down  from  the 
lighthouse,  and  with  the  serenity  of  his 
class,  accepted  the  appearance  of  the  bride 
and  groom  stranded  on  Twenty  Pound 
Island  with  an  unpopular  dog  as  a  matter 
of  course.  He  took  them  aboard  his  lob- 
ster boat.  By  this  time  the  bride's  travel- 
ing-dress was  so  far  on  the  road  to  ruin  that 
she  looked  upon  the  lobsters  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  with  indifference.  It  was  now 
growing  dusk.  Hensleigh,  spying  a  dry 
spot,  tried  to  sit  in  the  bow,  but  Father 
Morrison  waved  him  sternly  back :  — 

"You  go  set  along  side  o'  her.  That's 
where  you  belong."  Hensleigh  meekly 
obeyed,  for  a  captain  is  master,  even  in  a 
lobster  dory. 

The  old  man  rowed  them  strongly  out 
into  the  harbor.  He  pulled  his  ash  oars 
with  the  might  that  old  age  allows  only  to 
fisher  folk.  It  was  darkening  fast.  The 
square-cut  lines  of  Paradise  grew  nearer 
and  fainter  at  the  same  time.  There  was 
a  light  in  the  kitchen  window,  and  Corona 


64  THE    WEDDING  JOURNEY 

thought  that  she  could  detect  figures  on  the 
piazza. 

Father  Morrison  rested  on  his  oars,  and 
with  an  oratorical  cough  raised  himself  to 
his  feet. 

"I  wish  ye,"  he  began  solemnly,  "fair 
winds  and  a  pleasant  harbor." 

Hensleigh  took  off  his  hat,  and  said, 
"Amen!" 

"Thank  you,  dear  Father  Morrison," 
echoed  Corona  softly. 

But,  as  usual,  Matthew  Launcelot  had 
the  last  word.  A  fearful  howl  arose  from 
between  the  rower's  feet.  The  dog  leaped 
into  Corona's  lap.  A  live,  green  lobster 
followed. 

"He's  got  him  by  the  leg!"  cried  Co- 
rona. "Father  Morrison,  he  '11  kill  him." 

"There !  There !  "  said  Father  Morrison, 
"I  '11  see  to  him,"  and  he  wrenched  the 
jaws  of  the  lobster  asunder  as  if  they  had 
been  a  clothes-pin.  Matthew,  with  a  yell 
of  agony,  leaped  into  the  water  and  swam 
ashore.  The  boat  grated  on  the  rocks. 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  65 

As  the  bridal  couple  clambered  up  the 
cliff,  they  were  met  by  Puelvir,  Zero,  the 
expressman,  and  a  policeman. 

"Mercy  on  us!"  cried  Puelvir.  "It's 
him!  It 's  him!  I  've  had  the  whole  town 
huntin'  after  the  critter  —  And  Lord  have 
mercy  on  us,  it 's  them!  " 

"You  can  go,  and  I'm  much  obleeged," 
said  Puelvir  loftily  to  the  expressman  and 
policeman.  "My  folks  have  got  home,  and 
I  don't  need  any  more  of  you.  The  crit- 
ter 's  here! " 

If  there  were  a  trifling  ambiguity  in  Puel- 
vir's  last  substantive,  nobody  noticed  it. 
But  Corona  leaned  dependently  upon  her 
husband's  arm  for  the  first  time  since  they 
had  been  married. 

"I'm  so  glad  to  get  home,"  she  said, 
"are  n't  you?  And,  Puelvir,  dear,  couldn't 
you  get  us  a  little  supper?  " 

They  sat  on  the  piazza  to  rest;  Puelvir 
in  the  kitchen  was  singing  a  joyous  alto. 
She  sang :  — 


66  THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

"  Safe,  safe  at  home, 
No  more  to  roam ; 
Safe,  safe  at  home." 

The  odor  of  a  delicious  supper  —  plainly 
one  of  Puelvir's  masterpieces  —  crept  around 
the  side  of  the  house. 

The  stars  came  out,  and  the  harbor  lan- 
terns laughed  across  the  bay.  And  then 
the  red  flash-light  from  the  Point  turned  its 
greeting  eye  and  welcomed  them.  Every- 
thing seemed  to  have  expected  them.  Co- 
rona was  very  happy. 

"It  wasn't  such  a  bad  wedding  trip, 
after  all,  was  it,  dear?"  she  ventured. 

"N-no-o,"  doubtfully  answered  honest 
Alexander.  He  was  still  thinking  of  Nia- 
gara, Mexico,  Alaska,  Cape  Breton,  and  the 
nine  o'clock  train. 

"Isn't  this  better  than  a  hot,  stuffy 
hotel?"  pleaded  Corona  again,  her  sweet 
breath  fanning  his  beard. 

And  now  a  cool  wave  of  salt  air  swept 
over  Paradise,  and  the  waves  sang  on  the 
rocks  at  their  feet.  The  supper  bell  rang. 


THE    WEDDING   JOURNEY  67 

"I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  dear," 
said  Hensleigh,  with  a  sigh  of  content. 
Hand  in  hand  the  two  went  in  and  closed 
the  door. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING 

ALEXANDER  was  fishing  for  cunners,  — 
an  exciting  occupation  with  which  he  digni- 
fied his  honeymoon.  He  dangled  his  legs 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  lazily  smoking  a 
briarwood.  His  straw  hat  was  tipped  back 
from  his  forehead,  and  he  was  watching 
with  a  fisherman's  intentness  the  tidal  eddy 
beneath  him.  Corona  sat  by  his  side  mak- 
ing believe  that  she  was  very  happy.  In 
point  of  fact,  there  was  nothing  she  hated 
so  much  as  fishing  in  the  hot  sun.  But  the 
three  weeks'  wife  had  already  learned  that 
happiness  consisted  in  doing  what  Alexan- 
der liked.  Hensleigh,  who  knew  next  to 
nothing  about  the  natural  history  of  the 
Fairharbor  cunner,  insisted  that  they  never 
bit  before  twelve  o'clock. 

"I  have  never  noticed  that  they  bit  at 


THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING       69 

all,"  said  Corona,  "and  I  have  lived  here 
four  summers."  The  bride  looked  cool  and 
beautiful  in  her  white  flannel  boating-dress, 
as  she  happily  jeered  at  her  husband's 
efforts. 

But  Alexander  did  not  answer.  He  gave 
his  wife  a  debonair  glance.  The  last  bite 
had  taken  his  bait.  With  a  swish  of  jaunty 
superiority  he  brought  his  line  in  and  sacri- 
ficed another  rock  snail. 

These  two  people  were  as  happy  as  they 
looked.  Hensleigh  had  grown  ten  years 
younger.  It  was  the  lover  of  the  old  days 
come  back.  And  Corona  —  ah,  but  Co- 
rona !  Who  can  put  into  words  that  ineffa- 
ble glory  which  looks  from  the  eyes  of  a 
rapturous,  new-made  wife?  She  was  like 
a  rose  just  burst  into  bloom.  When  mar- 
riage overtakes  people  past  the  first  enthu- 
siasm of  youth  they  are  apt  to  be  happier 
than  younger  people  know  how  to  be.  Hap- 
piness is  a  fine  art  which  only  experience 
can  teach  us  how  to  acquire.  Most  of  us 
dabble  at  it.  A  few  master  it. 


70        THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

Fairharbor  was  nothing  if  not  accommo- 
dating. It  was  one  of  the  pleasant  pecu- 
liarities of  that  place  that  the  United  States 
mail  was  delivered  on  the  rocks  and  beaches. 
Corona's  particular  letter-carrier  was  very 
devoted  to  her.  On  one  occasion,  while  she 
was  taking  a  surf  bath,  he  was  courteous 
enough  to  deliver  her  letters  to  her  in  the 
water.  He  was  late  this  morning,  and  did 
not  go  up  to  the  house,  but  took  a  short  cut 
across  the  rocks  to  them,  and  hurried  by. 
Hensleigh  did  not  even  look  up.  He  had 
refused  since  he  had  been  married  even  to 
read  the  morning  papers.  He  went  on  con- 
tentedly trying  to  murder  fish,  while  Corona 
read  her  letters  and  his  own  too. 

He  was  suddenly  diverted  from  his  ec- 
static occupation  by  a  long  sigh. 

"Oh,  dear,"  cried  Corona,  "it's  too 
bad!" 

"  What 's  the  matter,  dear?  " 
"Why,  I  've  got  to  go  in  to  Boston." 
Hensleigh's  lips  fairly  turned  pale.     He 
dropped   his   pole.     "In  to  Boston!'"   he 


THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING        71 

exclaimed.  If  she  had  said  Calcutta  he  could 
not  have  thrown  more  emphasis  into  these 
two  words  —  such  a  change  had  Paradise 
wrought  upon  the  nature  of  the  erstwhile 
traveling  bridegroom.  "Why,  Corona! 
When  I  magnanimously  gave  up  Alaska, 
Niagara,  Cape  Breton,  and  Mexico,  I  didn't 
expect  to  be  yanked  out  of  my  home  to  go 
to  —  Boston!" 

"Oh,  but  you  haven't  got  to  go,"  said 
Corona  sweetly.  "I  can  attend  to  it  my- 
self. I  always  have." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  go 
off  and  leave  me  here  alone  —  with  —  with 
Matthew  Launcelot,  and  we  not  yet  married 
four  weeks?"  demanded  the  husband  with 
a  real  constraint. 

"Why,  Alec,  love,  I  don't  see  of  what 
possible  use  you  can  be.  It 's  about  the 
insurance.  It  has  been  overdue  two  weeks, 
and  just  because  I  was  married  I  forgot  all 
about  it." 

"You  sound,"  observed  her  husband 
dryly,  "as  if  you  wish  you  hadn't  been. 


72        THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING 

And  it  does  n't  seeui  to  occur  to  you  that, 
having  taken  a  husband,  it  is  natural  for 
him  to  look  out  for  your  business  affairs. 
I  have  insured  property  before  in  my  life." 
He  stood  up,  viciously  flung  out  his  line, 
and  immediately  landed  a  sculpin. 

Corona  screamed  —  a  feminine,  horror- 
stricken  shriek.  Matthew  Launcelot,  hear- 
ing the  commotion,  ran  out  of  the  house  to 
defend  his  mistress.  Perceiving  the  sculpin, 
he  turned  his  undivided  attention  to  that 
subject. 

Hensleigh,  with  a  look  of  unutterable  dis- 
gust, threw  down  his  pole  and  stalked  into 
the  house.  Corona  looked  after  him  in 
genuine  astonishment.  She  felt  suddenly 
very  faint.  What  did  this  mean?  What 
had  she  done?  Only  three  weeks  married, 
and  he  turned  his  back  upon  her!  There 
was  nothing  else  for  the  woman  to  do.  She 
followed  him  anxiously. 

When  she  came  in  she  found  him  in  the 
parlor  officiously  reading  "Les  Miserables." 
It  was  a  big,  red,  aggressive-looking  copy, 


THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING       73 

and  he  put  it  down  with  some  noise  when 
she  entered. 

"Alec,  dear"  —  she  began. 

"What  train  do  you  take?"  he  inter- 
rupted austerely. 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  she  trembled. 
"The  agent  says  it  must  be  attended  to 
right  away,  and  I  thought  I  might  find 
Tom  "  — 

" Tom !  "  exploded  the  husband.  "  What 
in  the  world  do  you  want  of  Tom? " 

"I  don't  know,"  faltered  Corona.  "I 
thought  —  he  always  has" —  She  broke 
off,  confused  beneath  her  husband's  steady 
glance. 

"Do  you  think,  Corona,  that  your  hus- 
band is  capable  of  doing  an  elemental  piece 
of  business  or  not?  Is  he  to  be  of  orna- 
ment, or  of  use?  We  might  as  well  have 
it  settled  right  now." 

Corona  looked  frightened. 

"I  did  n't  mean  "  —  she  said.  "I  've 
always  done  these  things.  I  like  to  do 
them,  too,"  she  added  in  a  stronger  voice. 
"I  enjoy  looking  out  for  myself." 


74        THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING 

"  Does  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  I  might 
enjoy  looking  out  for  you?  "  Hensleigh  got 
up  and  gazed  out  of  the  window.  "Be- 
sides," he  added,  "a  man  has  some  feeling 
on  such  a  subject." 

Corona  stared  at  him,  puzzled.  So  had 
she  some  feeling  about  it.  When  a  man's 
traditions  and  a  woman's  independence 
come  in  contact,  what  is  to  be  done? 

Alexander  sat  down  at  his  table  and  be- 
gan to  write. 

"How  long  did  your  policy  run?  "  he  in- 
quired in  a  methodical  voice. 

"Three  years." 

"What  premium?" 

Now  Corona  never  in  her  life  had  been 
able  to  remember  what  was  the  premium 
and  which  was  the  policy.  She  would  have 
died  rather  than  let  Alexander  know  this 
just  then. 

"Let  me  see,"  she  returned  evasively. 
"The  house  cost  me  five  hundred  dollars; 
the  furniture,  one  hundred.  House,  furni- 
ture, clothes,  and  all  —  I  insured  them  for 
six  hundred  and  fifty." 


THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING       To 

"What  is  the  company?"  came  the  cool 
rejoinder. 

"The  Mutual  Frying  Pan  and  Fire  Insu- 
rance Company.  It 's  in  the  same  building, 
you  remember,  with  my  brokers,  Jump  & 
Jiggles." 

By  the  time  she  had  finished  her  explana- 
tion, Hensleigh  began  to  read  her  the  fol- 
lowing letter : — 

GENERAL  AGENT  MUTUAL    FRYING  PAN 

AND  FIRE  INS.  Co. :  — 

Sir :  In  reply  to  yours  of  the  inst. 

addressed  to  my  wife,  Mrs.  Corona  Hens- 
leigh, I  inclose  my  check  for  amount  due 
you  for  a  renewal  of  policy  for  a  term  of 
three  years.  Hold  insurance  from  receipt 
of  this,  and  forward  policy  at  your  earliest 
convenience  to 

Yours  truly, 

ALEXANDER  HENSLEIGH. 

"There,"  he  said,  "that's  all  that 's  ne- 
cessary to  do." 


76        THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

"But  I  always  have  gone  to  Boston,"  in- 
sisted Corona  pugnaciously. 

"You  have  n't  always  been  married, 
though." 

There  was  something  a  little  peremptory 
in  Hensleigh's  tone,  which  jarred  upon  his 
wife.  A  man  never  understands  why  a 
woman  resents  masterfulness  at  one  time 
and  likes  it  at  another.  If  a  tramp  had 
come  in  and  frightened  her,  and  Alexander 
had  kicked  him  into  the  harbor,  she  would 
have  adored  this  evidence  of  power.  But 
the  superior  and  patronizing  manner  with 
which  her  husband  drew  that  check  was 
another  matter.  Corona  did  not  like  it, 
and  she  showed  that  she  did  not. 

"Very  well,"  she  said  coldly.  "If  you 
don't  wish  me  to  go  I  certainly  shall  not." 

"Do  as  you  please,"  he  replied  shortly. 
He  took  up  "  Les  Miserables,"  and  with  an 
air  of  great  significance  he  fastened  his  eyes 
upon  the  title. 

Corona  turned  sadly  away.  She  went 
out  on  the  piazza  and  looked  at  the  harbor 


THE    FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING       77 

for  comfort.  A  cloud  had  swept  over  the 
hot,  noon  sky,  and  the  water  regarded  her 
darkly.  She  called  Matthew  Launcelot. 
This  member  of  the  family  came  up  drag- 
ging the  mutilated  sculpin,  which  he  pro- 
ceeded to  bury  in  the  folds  of  her  white 
dress.  With  an  exclamation  of  annoyance 
Corona  fled  to  the  kitchen.  Puelvir  was 
ironing  one  of  Alexander's  outing  -  shirts, 
and  her  temper  and  the  thermometer  stood 
at  about  a  hundred  and  sixteen. 

"This  ain't  no  place  fur  you,"  began 
Puelvir  sharply.  "  You  'd  better  go  to  him. 
I  ain't  no  time  to  be  stirrin'  up  desserts  fur 
him  to-day.  You  send  him  out  berryin'. 
It 's  about  all  he  's  good  fur." 

Corona  retreated  in  despair.  There  was 
no  one  left  but  her  husband.  She  went 
through  the  dining-room,  where  she  had 
received  her  first  kiss,  and,  as  she  advanced, 
her  heart  grew  warmer.  She  softly  opened 
the  parlor  door.  He  did  not  look  up  from 
his  book.  Nevertheless,  Corona  was  con- 
vinced that  he  had  not  been  reading.  She 


78        THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

stole  up  behind  him,  put  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  and  looked  over  his  shoulder.  "Les 
Miserables  "  was  upside  down. 

"Let  me  have  the  letter,  dear.  I  '11  run 
out  and  mail  it.  I  won't  go  to  Boston.  I 
don't  think  there  is  any  real  need  of  it." 

"Oh,  come  here!"  cried  Alexander  rap- 
turously. "Les  Miserables"  performed  a 
double  somersault  and  landed  upon  the 
piazza.  Matthew  Launcelot  took  the  red 
book  to  be  another  kind  of  sculpin,  and 
began  viciously  to  tear  it  to  pieces.  And 
the  bride  —  where  was  she  ? 

In  a  few  minutes  two  figures  stole  out 
of  Paradise,  hand  in  hand.  Alexander  car- 
ried a  little  Indian  basket,  and  Corona 
carried  the  letter.  When  the  dinner-bell 
called  them  home  their  eyes  eagerly  told 
each  other  that  they  had  brought  back 
something  sweeter  than  the  wild  strawber- 
ries which  were  offered  to  Puelvir  as  an 
ironing-day  dessert. 

The  day  passed  pleasantly.     Corona  and 


THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING        79 

Alexander  were  very  happy.  After  supper, 
as  usual,  Hensleigh  lighted  a  cigar.  It  had 
come  up  a  little  easterly  and  threatened 
rain,  and  after  a  few  ineffectual  attempts 
to  stay  on  the  piazza,  Alexander  came  into 
the  house.  Corona,  who  was  sitting  at  the 
window,  greeted  him  joyously.  But  when 
she  saw  his  cigar  her  bright  face  fell. 

"  Why,  Alec,  dear,  you  're  not  smoking, 
are  you  —  to-night?  " 

"Great    Scott!    child,    why    in    thunder 
shouldn't  I  smoke  to-night?" 

"Why,  don't  you  remember  —  the  insur- 
ance?" 

"Well,    what   about    the    insurance?     I 
thought  we  had  settled  that  little  matter." 

"But,  my  dear,  it 's  overdue." 

"Over  —  fiddlesticks!"  exclaimed  Hens- 
leigh with  a  little,  contemptuous  smile. 

"Don't   be   rude."     Corona    arose    with 
some  dignity. 

"I  won't,"  he  replied  quickly,  "if  you  're 
not  silly."     She  flushed  at  the  word. 

"But  don't  you  see,  if  the  house  burns 
down  to-night,  I  sha'n't  get  a  cent  for  it?" 


80        THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

"So? "he  said,  puffing  peacefully.  His 
equanimity  and  her  anxiety  stung  Corona. 

"Let  me  see,"  he  said  quietly,  dropping 
his  ashes  on  the  floor,  "this  insurance  has 
been  two  weeks  overdue,  and  I  have  smoked 
every  day  in  this  house.  I  do  not  see  any 
reason  why  I  should  give  it  up  now." 

"I  see  every  reason,"  she  said  severely. 
"I  didn't  know  it  before.  It  would  break 
my  heart  to  lose  this  house.  I  love  it  very 
dearly." 

"You  love  it  more  than  you  do  me,"  ob- 
served the  husband  chillingly. 

"No,"  she  returned,  "I  love  it  more  than 
I  do  your  tobacco." 

In  a  quiet,  aggravating  way  Hensleigh 
kept  on  smoking.  He  looked  at  her  cheer- 
fully, as  much  as  to  say,  "Poor  girl,  you  're 
cracked  a  little  on  the  subject,  and  I  'm 
sorry  for  you."  Corona  stood  for  a  moment 
in  anxious  thought,  and  then  with  set  lips 
walked  up  to  his  chair  and  stood  over  him. 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  on  smoking, 
Alec?" 


THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING        81 

"So  it  seems,  my  dear." 

"  I  must  beg  you  —  I  must  ask  you,  not 
to  do  it  until  the  new  policy  is  taken  out. 
It  is  n't  safe.  It 's  very  dangerous." 

Hensleigh  looked  up  at  his  wife  quizzi- 
cally. 

"Whose  house  is  this?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  mine!"  said  Corona. 

"Ah!  I  thought  it  was  ours."  With- 
out another  word  Hensleigh  went  out,  shut 
the  door,  stood  for  a  moment  irresolute  on 
the  piazza,  and  then  disappeared  in  the 
growing  darkness.  His  feet  crunched  on 
the  crisp  grass.  There  had  been  a  three 
weeks'  Fairharbor  drought,  and  everything 
was  very  dry. 

Corona  dropped  on  the  sofa,  stunned. 
Oh,  what  had  happened?  Where  had  he 
gone?  Would  he  ever  come  back?  It 
seemed  to  the  bride  as  if  her  husband  had 
gone  out  of  her  life  forever.  Too  proud  to 
follow  him,  too  heartbroken  to  stay  behind, 
she  wandered  out  wretchedly  and  uncer- 
tainly upon  the  rocks.  The  wind  was  ris- 


82        THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

ing,  and  the  incoming  tide  dashed  high. 
She  put  up  her  hands  and  found  her  cheeks 
wet.  "It 's  the  spray,"  she  thought.  But 
it  was  not  the  spray. 

She  could  no  longer  hide  her  feeling 
from  herself.  She  threw  herself  down  upon 
the  rock  and  cried  as  if  she  would  cry  her 
life  out.  Not  fifty  feet  away  sat  her  hus- 
band, smoking  desperately.  The  wind  car- 
ried the  smoke  the  other  way.  The  cliff 
towered  between  the  two.  It  might  have 
been  the  width  of  the  world. 

Suddenly  shrill  sounds  came  from  the 
house.  Neither  of  these  two  miserable  peo- 
ple paid  any  attention  to  them.  It  was 
only  Matthew.  Perhaps  the  expressman 
had  come.  But  human  shrieks  now  broke 
into  the  canine  outcries.  Puelvir  began  to 
call  frantically. 

"Fire!  Fire!  Miss  Corona,  yer  house 
is  afire!"  It  didn't  occur  to  Puelvir  to 
call  the  master  of  the  house. 

Simultaneously  with  these  words  the 
smell  of  something  burning  rushed  over  the 


THE   FIRST   MISUNDERSTANDING        83 

rocks.  Corona  ran;  but  Hensleigh  ran, 
too ;  and  he  got  there  first. 

"Paradise  is  afire!"  cried  Puelvir. 
"Somebody  's  sot  it.  The  piazza  's  burnin' 
up!"  She  was  vigorously  emptying  the 
contents  of  the  parlor  flower  vases  upon  the 
fire.  Hensleigh  stooped  and  looked.  A 
horrible  conviction  forced  itself  upon  him 
that  a  spark  from  his  cigar  had  started  the 
dry  grass  into  a  brisk  flame.  There  was  no 
denying  the  fact.  Paradise  —  uninsured 
Paradise  —  was  in  real  danger. 

"Water!  "  he  cried.  "No,  I  want  a 
broom !  " 

"Broom!  "  said  Puelvir  scornfully. 
"What  can  a  man  do  with  a  broom?"  She 
meant  to  give  him  what  she  thought  best; 
and  she  did;  for  while  he  was  crawling 
under  to  beat  the  fire  out  with  a  piece  of 
planking  that  he  found  there,  Puelvir  emp- 
tied two  pails  of  hogshead  water  through 
the  broad  cracks  of  the  piazza.  This,  and 
Hensleigh 's  plank,  successfully  extinguished 
the  blaze.  But  it  also  extinguished  him. 


84         THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING 

He  crawled  out  meekly,  dripping  from 
head  to  foot.  Corona  met  him,  trembling 
violently. 

"Is  it  out?"  she  gasped,  "all  out?" 

"I  should  think  it  ought  to  be." 

"Thank  God!"  interpolated  Corona. 

"Feel  of  me!  "  he  answered  wetly. 

But  Puelvir  was  not  satisfied.  She  had 
brought  two  more  pailfuls  of  water,  and  she 
now  energetically  emptied  them  lengthways 
over  the  piazza.  This  time  the  flood  caught 
Hensleigh  in  the  ankles  as  he  was  coming 
up  the  steps. 

"Oh,  you  poor  fellow!"  cried  Corona. 
"Let  me  get  you  some  dry  things." 

This  wifely  exhibition  of  tenderness, 
which  he  had  not  at  all  deserved,  or  ex- 
pected, broke  down  what  little  obstinacy 
Puelvir 's  hydropathic  treatment  had  left  in 
Alexander.  Even  a  bulldog  is  conquered 
by  a  pail  of  water,  and  Hensleigh  was  a 
gentleman. 

"You  poor  darling!"  Forgetting  that 
he  was  dripping  he  took  his  wife  in  his 


THE   FIRST  MISUNDERSTANDING        85 

arms.  "I  am  so  sorry!  You  were  per- 
fectly right,  and  I  was  entirely  wrong. 
I  '11  —  I  '11  never  smoke  again  "  — 

"Until  the  house  is  insured,"  interrupted 
Corona  archly. 

"  Well  —  ah  —  yes, "  admitted  Alexander. 

"And  that  will  be  to-morrow  morning." 

They  laughed  and  kissed.  Her  fluffy, 
light  evening  dress  lay  contentedly  in  his 
soaked,  corduroy  embrace. 

"This  must  never  happen  again,"  he  said 
after  a  damp,  but  happy  silence.  "Love 
is  too  precious,  and  marriage  is  too  sacred." 

"It  was  dreadful!" 

"It  was  blasphemy!"  he  cried;  "and 
we  '11  promise  by  this  —  by  this  —  and  this 
—  that  it  shall  never  happen  again." 

"It  never  shall,"  said  Corona  solemnly. 
But  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  wondered  if 
it  ever  would. 


1 
CHAPTER   V 

DEEP-SEA   FISHING 

THE  memory  of  that  brief,  but  what 
might  have  proved  a  serious  disagreement, 
cast  a  spell  of  tenderness  upon  the  two  mar- 
ried lovers.  Each  made  it  a  point  to  yield 
to  the  other  until  the  only  one  in  Paradise 
who  had  a  will  of  her  own  was  Puelvir. 

"Don't  you  want  to  take  a  walk  to 
Grace's  Cove?  " 

"Not  unless  you  want  to,  dear." 

"But  I  don't  care  to  unless  you  do." 

"It 's  just  as  you  say." 

So  like  two  stupid  angels,  they  would 
stand  and  devour  each  other  with  tender, 
happy  glances,  having  brought  action  to  a 
disinterested  deadlock,  that  seems  insupport- 
able to  the  world  which  has  passed  through 
such  married  nonsense,  and  which  is  an  in- 
dispensable condition  to  those  just  joined  in 
the  holy  toils  of  matrimony. 


DEEP-SEA    FISH IX G  87 

Corona  would  not  eat  strawberries  un- 
less Alexander  picked  out  the  largest  ones 
for  himself;  and  Alexander  absolutely  re- 
fused to  select  the  giant  berries  unless  she 
promised  on  her  wedding  ring  to  eat  them. 
Ah,  if  those  little  idiocies,  at  which  the 
world  guffaws,  only  because  it  associates 
them  with  the  honeymoon,  would  but  last 
through  married  life,  then  we  should  con- 
sider them  tha  expression  of  the  greatest 
wisdom  possible  to  poor  humanity. 

They  were  standing  together,  Corona 
leaning  on  her  husband's  shoulder,  saying 
good-night,  as  they  always  did,  to  the  red 
flash-light  on  the  Point,  the  friend  that  un- 
derstood them  better  than  any  other,  when 
Alexander  said,  without  any  apparent  ef- 
fort :  - 

"I'm  going  out  fishing  to-morrow,  and 
expect  to  start  about  five.  I  will  slip  out 
without  waking  anybody  up." 

In  reality,  Alexander  had  dreaded  to 
give  this  information,  very  much  as  a  boy 
is  reluctant  to  explain  to  his  well-armed 


88  DEEP- SEA   FISHING 

father  obvious  discrepancies  in  his  speech 
and  conduct.  With  the  wiliness  of  a  ser- 
pent, the  bridegroom  had  chosen  this  par- 
ticular time  so  that  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night  their  mutual  emotions  might  be  invisi- 
ble to  each  other. 

Corona's  only  answer  was  to  let  her  arm 
drop  gently  from  the  culprit's  shoulder. 
But  to  the  man,  her  silence  was  as  eloquent 
as  a  bombardment. 

"You  see,"  he  went  on  with  hollow  cheer- 
fulness, "I've  engaged  Father  Morrison, 
and  as  soon  as  the  traps  are  drawn,  we  are 
going  to  start  right  out  with  the  Flash,  so 
as  to  be  on  the  grounds  "  — 

"The  Flash!"  interrupted  Corona  in- 
credulously. "Why,  she  capsized  with 
Zero  and  three  boys  four  years  ago.  Fa- 
ther Morrison  himself  rowed  out  and  picked 
them  up.  Three  clung  to  the  bottom  and  one 
was  caught  in  the  trap.  It  took  two  hours 
to  resuscitate  him "  —  Corona  stopped 
only  to  gain  breath.  She  continued  with 
staccato  distinctness.  "Then  two  boarders 


DEEP-SEA    FISHING  89 

took  the  Flash  out  the  next  year,  and  she 
went  over  in  a  squall.  The  next "  —  But 
Hensleigh  interrupted. 

"Probably  they  did  n't  know  how  to  tack, 
or  drop  their  canvas." 

"No,"  said  Corona  severely.  "The  hal- 
yards got  tangled.  The  next  year  the  Flash 
went  out  with  a  fishing  party,  got  caught  in 
the  fog,  and  was  n't  heard  of  for  three  days. 
There  were  two  tugs  looking  for  her  all  of 
the  time,  and  one  was  nearly  run  down." 

"  But  that  was  n't  the  fault  of  the 
Flash,"  observed  Alexander  desperately. 

"No?"  questioned  Corona  with  infinite 
sarcasm.  Then  she  melted.  "I  —  I  can- 
not —  I  simply  cannot  stand  your  going  in 
the  Flash.  It  would  be  an  eternal  sepa- 
ration. It  is  nothing  less  than  suicide." 
She  gave  a  little  gulp,  and  clung  again 
appealingly  to  her  husband's  arm. 

"There,  there,  girl!  "  —  Alexander's  tone 
was  as  soothing  and  reassuring  as  an  eider- 
down quilt,  but  his  heart  was  a  bit  impa- 
tient. "You  don't  mean,  dearest,"  he  went 


90  /;/:/•:/'- NAM 

on,  quietly,  "that  you  don't  want  me  to  go 
fishing  at  all?" 

"N-n-no!"  Corona's  voice  came  with  a 
catch  and  a  gasp,  as  if  she  had  been  sud- 
denly struck  with  spray  in  the  face.  "I 
wouldn't  have  you  give  up  your  trip  for 
anything,  especially  if  you  have  made  an 
engagement  with  Father  Morrison." 

Alexander  smiled  inaudibly.  An  irrev- 
ocable engagement  with  the  lobster  man, 
as  if  he  were  a  banking  magnate  !  But 
this  was  just  like  Corona.  The  poorer  and 
plainer  her  neighbors  were  the  more  she 
seemed  to  think  of  them.  Nevertheless,  he 
stood  to  his  purposes,  feeling,  manlike,  that 
if  he  gave  in  an  inch  now,  his  future  inde- 
pendence wouldn't  be  worth  mentioning; 
and  she,  poor  woman,  felt  that  if  she  did 
not  concur  in  his  resolution,  happiness 
might  take  flight  from  their  cottage  window. 
"Besides,"  she  continued  heroically,  "a 
man  must  have  his  pleasures,  even  if  they 
do  take  him  away  from  his  wife ;  only  I  beg 
of  you,  don't  go  in  the  Flash." 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  91 

"Very  well,  what  shall  I  go  in?  " 

"I  shouldn't  object  to  a  tug." 

"A  tug!  Why  don't  I  charter  a  Cu- 
narder?  You  must  be  crazy,  child.  You 
never  used  to  be  foolish  like  that.  I  always 
thought  you  were  a  sensible  woman." 

"But  I  wasn't  married  then,  dear.  It 
makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world." 

"  I  suppose  so.  Very  well.  I  will  char- 
ter a  tug  to  go  two  miles  off  the  Point  fish- 
ing. It  will  probably  cost  me  fifty  dollars, 
—  but  as  long  as  you  will  feel  that  I  am 
safe,  I  suppose  "  —  he  stopped  sternly. 

But  this  sarcasm  was  all  lost  on  Corona. 
She  was  literally  immolating  herself  upon 
the  altar  of  self  -  sacrifice.  What  would 
have  been  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  two  months  ago,  now  seemed  to  her 
wedded  apprehension  a  desperate  undertak- 
ing. The  placid  ocean  that  used  to  be  so 
sympathetic  was  now  suddenly  changed  to 
torpid  malignity.  For  Alexander  to  go  out 
upon  the  water  without  her  was  like  trusting 
him  to  a  raging,  personal  enemy.  And 


92  DEEP-SEA   FISHING 

now  before  her  imagination,  congested  by 
the  fear  that  feeds  on  love,  there  swept  pic- 
ture after  picture  of  horrible  Atlantic  scenes 
—  of  shipwreck,  of  hunger  and  thirst  and 
exposure,  of  torturing  death,  and  of  the 
rescue  that  came  an  hour  too  late.  These 
tales  of  Fairharbor  woes,  that  had  formerly 
glided  like  distant  tragedies  from  her  mem- 
ory, now  stabbed  her  heart,  and  caused  her 
a  suffering  too  real  for  the  man  to  com- 
prehend. Nevertheless,  resolutely,  with  a 
devotion  that  husbands  never  can  under- 
stand and  less  appreciate,  she  hid  her  appre- 
hension in  her  soul,  concealed  the  withering 
anxiety  that  she  knew  she  must  bear  until 
he  safely  returned,  and  smilingly  said :  — 

"Forgive  me,  dear,  my  anxiety  about  the 
Flash.  I  take  it  all  back.  You  are  cer- 
tainly a  good  enough  sailor  to  be  the  best 
judge.  We  don't  consider  the  Flash  a  safe 
boat  around  here.  Having  said  that,  it  is 
all  that  is  necessary.  Puelvir  will  have  a 
cup  of  coffee  ready  for  you  and  put  you  up 
some  lunch,  and  I  hope  you  will  have  a 


DEEP-SEA    FISHING  93 

splendid  day's  fishing."  No  one  knows 
what  that  speech  cost  the  new  wife.  Hens- 
leigh  may  have  had  an  inkling,  and  a  tinge 
of  remorse  may  have  touched  him  as  he 
accepted  her  renunciation. 

"There !  "  he  said.  " That 's  the  kind  of 
a  wife  I  like."  And,  foolish  woman  that 
she  was,  she  deluded  herself  into  thinking 
that  his  little  appreciation  might  more  than 
pay  her  for  the  torture  of  letting  him  have 
his  own  way. 

But  she  did  not  sleep  that  night.  Every 
hour  or  so  she  timidly  put  out  her  hand  to 
be  sure  that  her  husband  was  really  there. 
She  had  a  feeling  that  these  might  be  the 
last  hours  on  earth  together. 

The  next  morning  broke  with  a  motion- 
less sea  and  sky.  A  gentle  haze  idealized 
the  harbor  and  made  it  look  like  the  image 
of  a  dream.  Picturesque  dories  were  lazily 
creeping  to  their  traps  at  which  already  a 
small  fleet  of  shore  fishing  sloops  were  sloth- 
fully  anchored,  their  sails  hanging  in  list- 
less folds,  waiting  for  the  ruffles  on  the 
water  to  chase  the  calm. 


94  DEEP-SEA    FISHING 

"At  any  rate,"  thought  Corona,  "he 
can't  drown  in  a  calm,  or  be  run  over. 
God  is  good  to  me."  And  her  heart  rose. 
Aloud  she  said :  — 

"What  a  glorious  day,  and  how  the  fish 
will  bite!" 

"Yes,"  said  Hensleigh  with  the  good- 
humored  aggressiveness  of  a  man  who  is  in 
the  process  of  successfully  carrying  his  point, 
"and  you  may  thank  your  stars  you  are  not 
going  to  broil  out  there  all  day  in  a  ground 
swell  with  not  a  breath  of  air." 

"But  I  wasn't  invited,  anyway,"  Corona 
observed  demurely  as  she  took  the  milk 
pitcher  from  Puelvir  and  poured  the  white 
cascade  into  the  thick  summer  goblet. 

"Hm-m!  I  — hadn't  thought  of  that; 
but  if  you  'd  really  like  to  go,  you  had  bet- 
ter—  put  on"  —he  flunked  helplessly  like 
a  schoolboy. 

"Never  mind  me,  dear,"  interrupted  Co- 
rona with  a  heroic  air,  "this  is  your  day, 
and  I  hope  you  will  be  happier  than  I.  I 
wouldn't  spoil  it  by  going  for  the  world. 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  95 

And  is  n't  this  better  than  starting  out  from 
an  old  boarding-house  without  any  one  to 
look  after  you?" 

The  look  that  Alexander  gave  his  wife 
for  answer  was  interrupted  by  a  hoarse  call 
from  the  rocks. 

"Air  ye  ready?"  bawled  Father  Morri- 
son. "Them  tinkers  will  all  be  sold  out 
an'  ye  '11  hev  to  bait  up  with  squid  if  ye 
don't  slip  yer  moorin'  purty  quick." 

Corona  gave  her  husband's  arm  the  last 
tender  pat  while  he  bent  to  kiss  her.  She 
tried  to  give  the  parting  a  light  appearance. 
But,  in  truth,  she  felt  as  if  it  were  the  last. 
She  set  her  teeth  in  her  tongue  to  keep  from 
crying.  Alexander,  obtuse  —  whether  will- 
fully or  not,  who  shall  say  ?  —  to  this  femi- 
nine suffering,  picked  up  his  lunch  basket, 
and  ran  like  a  boy  down  the  slippery  gran- 
ite. His  heart  was  full  of  her  tenderness 
and  of  the  delight  of  the  home  which  his 
soul  had  craved  all  these  years.  At  the 
same  time,  his  mind  was  distracted  with  the 
idea  of  sport.  It  would  be  an  interesting 


96  DEEP-SEA   FISHING 

study  to  inquire  into  the  number  of  happy 
homes  that  have  been  blasted  by  the  mas- 
culine insanity  to  go  forth  and  kill.  How 
many  athletic  men  are1  there  who  would 
deny  themselves  what  they  call  "sport"  for 
the  sake  of  a  little  wife  at  home?  It  may 
not  be  impossible  that  in  the  next  world 
murdered  partridges  and  deer  and  salmon 
and  trout  may  be  allowed  a  game  preserve 
stocked  with  the  men  who  hunted  them; 
a  state  of  retribution  where  the  open  season 
for  this  sport  extends  throughout  the  whole 
year,  and  where  pigeons  may  have  shooting- 
matches  to  see  how  many  heartless  humans 
they  can  wing  in  a  hundred  shots. 

But  Hensleigh  did  not  think  of  these 
things.  He  was  a  little  restless  under  his 
wife's  surveillance. 

"You  will  take  good  care  of  him,  Father 
Morrison,  for  my  sake?"  fluttered  plain- 
tively over  the  water  after  them  as  they  lus- 
tily rowed  the  Flash  to  the  nearest  trap. 
"As  if  I  were  a  boy! "  he  thought  to  him- 
self, forgetting  for  the  moment  what  he  very 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  97 

well  knew,  that  every  wife  looks  upon  her 
husband  as  a  big  boy,  a  cross  between  a 
lover  and  a  baby,  and  that  this  is  the  most 
natural,  maternal,  and  loveliest  thing  in  the 
world.  And  soon  he  forgot  the  loneliness 
which  he  had  left  behind,  and  only  thought 
of  keeping  cool  his  glistening  bait  for  which 
he  had  paid  twenty -five  cents  a  bucket,  and 
of  getting  upon  the  ground  before  the  rest 
of  the  professional  fleet. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  that  morning 
when  Father  Morrison  cast  a  look  of  unut- 
terable disgust  into  the  water.  The  two 
men  had  been  fishing  doggedly. 

"That's  the  tenth  shark  I've  hooked," 
he  muttered  with  a  salty  expletive,  "and 
I  'm  danged  "  Here  he  took  his  line  by 
the  lead,  and  swinging  it  in  a  three  quarters 
circle,  he  dexterously  brought  the  head  of 
the  white,  squirming,  vicious  little  shark 
down  upon  the  rail  of  the  boat  with  a  thud 
—  "if  I'll  throw  her  out  again!  I  don't 
fish  fur  dogs  fur  no  man."  His  voice  fell 


98  DEEP-SEA   FISHING 

into  inarticulate  growls  as  he  cut  the  hook 
out  of  the  dogfish's  mouth.  When  that 
was  done,  he  looked  up  at  Hensleigh  from 
under  his  bushy  white  eyebrows  as  if  that 
innocent  groom  were  the  cause  of  this  disas- 
trous strike  of  fish. 

But  Hensleigh  did  not  say  anything. 
His  line  dipped.  He  recovered  it  with  a 
jerk,  and  now  began  to  haul  up  the  sixteen 
fathoms  of  cod-line  hand  over  hand. 

"  That 's  no  dog!"  he  finally  exclaimed 
in  exultation,  as  the  struggling  line  came 
in  harder  and  harder,  and  he  paused  for  a 
moment  to  rest. 

"Keep  her  taut!"  cried  Father  Morri- 
son, interested  for  the  first  time  that  hot, 
calm  day.  He  put  out  his  gnarled  hand  to 
feel  the  line. 

"Don't  touch  it!  I'll  haul  her  up  my- 
self." Alexander  spoke  impatiently.  "Have 
the  gaff  ready.  There  she  comes!  "  Hens- 
leigh bent  over  to  greet  his  capture,  and 
peered  into  the  ugliest,  most  horrible  face 
he  had  ever  seen.  One  look  into  the  coun- 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  99 

tenance  of  that  fish  was  enough  for  the  old 
man.  He  dropped  the  gaff  in  despair,  and 
fell  back  upon  the  thwarts  with  a  grunt. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Alexander  help- 
lessly. "How  shall  I  get  it  off?"  He 
picked  up  the  gaff  and  put  it  teasingly  in 
the  creature's  mouth.  This  the  fish  bit  in 
two  as  if  it  were  a  toothpick. 

"You'd  better  cut  the  line,"  observed 
the  old  fisherman  with  dry  irritation. 
"You  '11  never  get  that  hook  out.  It  's 
worse  than  a  dog." 

Hensleigh  gave  a  sickened  look  at  the 
monstrous  gray  distortion,  that  snapped  at 
him  madly. 

"What  is  it?  "  he  asked,  feeling  dizzy  as 
he  bent  to  cut  the  intruder  off. 

"What?  "  repeated  Father  Morrison  sav- 
agely, —  "what  is  it?  It 's  a  cat !  " 

When  Heiisleigh  had  determined  upon 
this  fishing  trip,  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  make  the  most  of  this  his  first  outing 
since  his  marriage.  While  he  had  no  idea 
of  inflicting  pain  upon  the  wife  whom  he 


100  DEEP-SEA   FJSHING 

loved  with  all  his  heart,  his  mind,  and 
his  soul,  nevertheless  he  had  his  theories. 
Most  married  men  have.  One  of  Hens- 
leigh's  ran  interrogator ily  through  his  mind 
in  some  such  fashion  as  this :  would  not  his 
whole  married  life  be  happier  if  he  accus- 
tomed her  soon  to  the  thought  of  his  ab- 
sence? It  seldom  occurs  to  the  man  that 
while  he  is  being  diverted  by  business, 
travel,  or  pleasure,  the  wife  whom  he  leaves 
behind  may  prefer  the  monotonous  miseries 
of  waiting  and  watching,  to  the  forgetful- 
ness  which  distraction  makes  possible.  He 
had  never  understood  before  marriage  that 
Corona  had  this  insensate  fear  of  the  water. 
Probably  she  did  not  know  it  herself. 
Therefore,  Alexander  was  really  unaware  of 
the  extent  of  the  suffering  he  was  inflicting. 
He  was  not  in  a  hurry.  Not  a  cod,  not  a 
haddock,  a  hake,  or  any  other  respectable 
fish  were  on  the  grounds  that  morning.  The 
voracious  dogfish  had  driven  everything  off, 
and  while  the  professional  fishermen,  well 
knowing  the  futility  of  earning  a  living 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  101 

under  such  conditions,  had  long  since  gone 
home  in  disgust,  the  amateur  had  clung  to 
a  vain  hope  and  had  stayed  on,  notwith- 
standing Father  Morrison's  grunts  and  ex- 
pletives. 

"We  've  brought  our  lunch,  and  we  might 
as  well  stay,"  explained  Hensleigh  apolo- 
getically. "The  luck  will  turn  with  the 
'tide." 

"Jess  as  you  say,"  observed  the  old  fish- 
erman briefly.  He  was  paid  by  the  hour, 
and  could  afford  to  sprawl  idly  on  the 
thwarts  and  smoke  his  pipe.  The  ability 
to  resign  one's  self  to  absolute  laziness  is  as 
peculiar  to  fishermen  when  there  's  nothing 
to  catch  as  it  is  to  a  tramp.  While  Hens- 
leigh was  pulling  up  his  malicious  catfish, 
which  is  the  marine  devil  of  the  Fairharbor 
coast,  he  was  thinking  how  happy  his  wife 
was,  reading  in  her  favorite  hammock,  and 
how  proud  she  would  be  of  him  when  he 
came  home  carrying  Atlantic  trophies. 

In  reality,  the  lady  was  at  that  moment 
on  top  of  the  Point  lighthouse,  peering 


102  DEEP" SEA   FJSHING 

through  a  three-foot  telescope,  catching,  as 
she  struggled  to  understand  the  mysteries 
of  monocular  focus,  occasional  glimpses  of 
water,  and  rarer  ones  of  the  Flash.  With 
her  naked  eyes  Corona  could  distinguish 
the  boat  very  well  as  it  bobbed  up  and 
down  at  anchor  two  miles  or  so  away,  be- 
yond the  red  whistling  buoy.  This  made 
her  very  happy.  But  her  vision,  trained 
by  several  seasons  to  cloud  effects,  noticed 
something  else  far  off  on  the  southeastern 
horizon.  It  was  a  dense  gray -white  cloud 
bank  that  seemed  to  be  creeping  near  and 
nearer.  Once,  as  she  looked  again,  she  no- 
ticed a  coaster  disappear  behind  it.  Then 
she  knew  it  was  fog !  Up  to  this  point  her 
miseries  had  been  those  of  the  imagination. 
Now  they  began,  indeed,  to  be  real  enough. 
The  lighthouse  keeper  heard  her  cry  out 
piteously :  — 

"This  is  terrible!  The  fog  is  coming  in! 
They  will  be  lost!  Why  don't  they  see  it? 
We  must  warn  them.  Oh,  won't  you  ring 
the  bell?" 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  103 

"There,  there!"  said  the  keeper  kindly. 
"It  is  coming  on  thick  in  course  of  time. 
But  he  '11  be  all  right.  Yes,  I  '11  let  her  off 
for  you." 

He  gallantly  ran  down  the  lighthouse 
steps  in  direction  of  the  bell.  Now,  it  was 
at  this  very  moment  that  Hensleigh  caught 
the  cat.  It  was  the  last  ounce  that  turned 
the  scale  of  his  pleasure  into  nausea. 

"This  is  simply  abominable!"  he  cried 
out.  "There  's  no  fishing,  and  this  ground 
swell  is  —  er  —  very  un — humph — fortu- 
nate. Let 's  pull  up  and  go  home.  There ! 
Do  you  hear  that  bell?  Hark!  " 

The  ancient  lobsterman  crossed  his  rubber 
boots,  and  looked  at  Hensleigh  with  amuse- 
ment partly  veiled  by  sarcasm. 

"You  kin  pull  up,"  he  said  shortly  be- 
tween puffs,  "an'  you  kin  pull  her  home. 
There  ain't  no  air;  there'll  be  one  by 'n' 
by  from  the  east'ard.  I  've  worked  them 
sweeps  gettin'  her  here  all  I  'm  goin'  to. 
It 's  about  noon,  an'  I  'm  goin'  to  make 
the  coffee."  The  old  man,  having  delivered 


104  DEEP-SEA   FISHING 

himself  of  this  mutinous  sentiment,  bowed 
himself  into  the  little  cuddy,  and  pretty 
soon  dense  smoke  added  to  the  disenchant- 
ment which,  the  mention  of  lunch  had  in- 
flicted upon  Hensleigh's  imagination. 

Again  the  fog-bell  tolled,  this  time  with 
greater  vigor. 

"He's  salutin'  boarders  reckless,  that's 
what  he's  up  to,"  explained  Father  Mor- 
rison from  below. 

But  Hensleigh  lay  in  the  cockpit,  his  heel 
upon  the  wooden  seat.  He  was  thinking  in 
a  turbulent  manner  how  the  swell  had  in- 
creased since  he  had  stopped  fishing,  and 
what  an  idiot  he  was  to  go  out  when  the 
dogfish  had  "struck."  In  a  reeling  sort 
of  a  way  he  casually  considered  how  much 
better  off  he  would  have  been  if  he  had 
stayed  at  home  with  Corona. 

The  Flash  rolled,  her  boom  creaked  at  the 
mast,  her  sails  flapped,  her  rope  swished, 
and  every  time  she  rose  the  anchor  line 
came  out  of  the  water  with  a  hiss.  These 
noises,  so  discordant  and  varied,  became 


DEEP-SEA   FISHING  105 

monotonous  when  repeated  ten  times  a 
minute,  and  soon  they  even  lulled  Hensleigh 
into  a  doze,  in  which  the  distant  bell  seemed 
like  a  faint  clear  call.  He  only  turned  an 
ashen  face  of  protest  when  invited  to  step 
below  and  partake  of  lunch.  So  Father 
Morrison,  with  a  meaning  and  indulgent 
smile,  ate  it  all  up,  and  then  filled  the  cuddy 
with  contented  smoke,  while  his  passenger 
lapsed  into  a  fitful  and  dizzy  sleep. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  POINT 

IT  might  have  been  three  o'clock  when 
Father  Morrison  was  aroused  from  the  doze 
into  which  he  so  easily  drifted  after  a  good 
meal  and  a  consolatory  pipe.  A  puff  of 
dampness,  that  only  could  have  blown 
straight  from  the  east,  impelled  the  mariner 
to  immediate  action.  It  was  a  danger  sig- 
nal which  even  his  somnolent  senses  could 
not  disregard. 

His  rheumy  eyes  looked  anxiously  up  at 
the  blue  sky  that  shone  down  into  the 
narrow  cuddy.  But  when  the  old  man 
stuck  his  head  out,  he  uttered  a  cry  of 
alarm.  For,  not  a  hundred  yards  away,  an 
irresistible  bank  of  fog  bore  down  upon 
them.  Even  as  it  advanced,  lightly  dan- 
cing upon  the  darkening  waters,  it  thrust  out 
huge,  fleecy  tentacles,  as  if  it  were  alive,  a 
devouring  kraken  of  the  air. 


THE   POINT  107 

But  Hensleigh  opened  his  eyes  with  heavy 
languor.  His  back  was  turned  to  the  trans- 
lucent terror  of  the  sea. 

"What's  up?"  he  asked  indifferently. 
At  that  moment  an  arm  of  fog  darted 
ahead,  and  spread  its  fingers  over  the  sun, 
and  obscured  it  as  if  with  a  film  of  milk. 
Then  an  icy  breath  shot  forth. 

"Ha!  what's  that?"  he  cried  with  dull 
apprehension. 

"  Get  up  there,  you  landlubber  you !  " 
Father  Morrison  uttered  these  gruff  words 
with  the  deadly  fear,  and  with  the  resent- 
ment of  a  man  who  has  betrayed  a  sacred 
trust.  He  spoke,  also,  with  the  license 
given  only  to  the  autocracy  of  a  captain, 
and  only  on  his  own  vessel. 

"It's  fog,  I  tell  you!  Haul  in  on  that 
buoy -line  as  ye  never  hauled  before!  Git 
that  anchor  in  while  I  h'ist  the  throat  an' 
peak!  Goramighty!  What  '11  she  say  ? " 

Hensleigh  jumped  to  his  feet.  His  dizzi- 
ness had  instantly  disappeared.  He  stared 
at  the  insistent  fog,  and  then,  as  if  by 


THE   POINT 

mutual  agreement,  the  two  men  looked  at 
each  other.  Each  had  but  one  thought  that 
leaped  into  instant  being.  It  was  not  the 
terror  of  fog,  or  of  shipwreck,  or  death.  It 
was  the  fear  of  a  woman. 

It  was  in  vain  that  they  tried  to  hide  this 
unmanly  feeling  by  a  sickly,  pretentious 
smile.  In  that  brief  interchange  of  mute 
despair,  it  occurred  to  both  of  them  that 
perhaps  it  might  be  better  if  they  should 
never  return.  Then  the  fog  swept  by  them 
in  rolling  avalanches.  The  bell  rang  out  in 
quick,  impassioned  strokes  —  in  real  earnest 
now.  It  called  —  but  even  as  it  called,  the 
Flash  was  cut  off  from  all  the  world.  They 
were  alone  upon  the  deep. 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  how  Father  Morrison 
fumbled  in  putting  up  the  mainsail.  His 
hands  trembled  and  dropped  the  halyards 
repeatedly.  During  all  these  years  "she" 
had  trusted  him;  he  had  been  an  honored 
guest  at  her  marriage,  and  now  —  it  seemed 
as  if  a  blight  thicker  than  the  fog  itself  had 
darkened  his  life.  He  could  never  look  her 


THE   POINT  109 

in  the  face  again.  He  knew  too  well  where 
she  was.  His  seafaring  ears  interpreted  the 
peculiar  toll  of  that  bell,  —  a  sound  that 
could  never  have  come  from  a  well-regulated 
lighthouse  keeper  whose  mind  was  undis- 
turbed by  visitors.  A  personal  alarm,  not 
a  general  sense  of  duty,  was  behind  that 
nervous  warning.  She  was  in  the  light- 
house hours  ago.  She  had  seen  the  mantle 
that  God  had  laid  upon  them  while  he  slept 
at  his  watch. 

But  Hensleigh  said  to  himself:  "She's 
safe  at  home,  and  hasn't  noticed  this  yet. 
Perhaps  we  can  get  in  before  the  fog  strikes 
the  shore.  If  not  —  whew!"  With  alter- 
nate hopes  and  tremblings,  he  pulled  in  the 
anchor  line  hand  over  hand,  oblivious  to 
the  red,  poisonous  filaments  of  the  medusa, 
that  slimed  his  fingers  and  stung  them. 
After  what  seemed  to  Father  Morrison  a 
prehistoric  era,  the  Flash,  with  boom  well 
to  port,  was  headed  homeward  as  well  as 
Fairharbor  skill  could  steer,  to  the  double 
call  of  the  whistling  buoy  and  the  lighthouse 


110  THE   POINT 

bell,  each  of  which  in  mournful  antiphony 
seemed  to  shriek  for  the  dying  and  to  toll 
for  the  dead. 

"I  suppose  you  've  got  a  compass  aboard," 
Hensleigh  asked,  sitting  on  the  other  side  of 
the  tiller,  with  his  coat  buttoned  to  his 
chin,  and  the  fog  drizzling  from  his  beard. 

The  ancient  mariner  shook  his  head  impa- 
tiently. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have 
come  out  here  without  a  compass?  How 
do  you  expect  to  get  her  in? "  For  the  first 
time  a  fear  other  than  that  of  woman  in- 
vaded the  passenger's  breast. 

"Look  here,  young  man,"  the  skipper 
turned  upon  him  a  white,  shaggy  brow, 
under  which  his  bleared  eyes  burned  with 
rare  energy,  "a  little  easterly  like  this  don't 
make  no  difference  to  me.  I  've  run  her  in 
a  thousand  times  in  wuss  than  this,  an'  if 
ye  '11  let  me  alone,  I  '11  bring  ye  in  to  her 
ez  safe  ez  a  lobster  in  a  pot.  I  kinder 
reckon  we  'd  better  stick  together  in  this 
little  muss,  an'  say  ez  little  about  it  ez  pos- 


THE   POINT  111 

sible.     I  hain't  needed  a  compass  fur  forty 
year,  an'  I  don't  propose  to  begin  now." 

For  answer  Alexander  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  scaly  fist  that  grasped  the  tiller.  Then 
he  said  softly :  — 

"I  don't  care  for  myself,  but"  — 
"  Hullo  !  What  's  that  ?  Ship  ahoy, 
there !  Sheer  off,  will  yer  ?  Put  your  hel- 
ium hard  up!  "  bawled  the  old  man,  stand- 
ing up  in  his  excitement.  With  one  turn 
of  the  tiller  he  had  brought  the  little  Flash 
up  into  the  wind.  There  was  a  bubbling  as 
of  many  brooks.  There  was  a  swishing  as 
of  a  thousand  churns.  A  huge,  threatening 
beak  poised  over  them  for  a  moment.  Then 
a  cloud  of  canvas  sped  from  under  the 
cloud  of  fog.  The  long  bay  of  the  fog-horn, 
the  seaman's  drone  of  warning,  grated  upon 
the  damp  air.  The  Flash,  drifting  helplessly 
to  windward,  bumped  the  gurried  side  of 
the  scudding  fisherman.  If  it  had  been  on 
the  other  side,  the  long  booms  would  have 
dismasted  the  little  boat,  and  perhaps 
drowned  its  occupants. 


112  THE   POINT 

0 

A  crowd  of  men  looked  curiously  over 
the  rail  down  at  the  two. 

"Hullo,"  shouted  one,  "old  Daddy  Mor- 
rison !  Ye  'd  better  run  in,  old  man,  where 
ye  belong  —  you  're  lost,  out  here !  " 

There  was  a  rude  chorus  of  laughter,  a 
gurgling  such  as  only  a  sucking  rudder  can 
make,  and  the  insolent  ghost  had  been  swal- 
lowed up. 

"That  was  a  mighty  narrow  shave!  "  said 
Hensleigh,  when  his  heart  had  stopped  beat- 
ing enough  for  him  to  talk. 

But  the  old  skipper,  who  had  made  up 
his  mind  what  course  to  pursue  as  soon  as 
the  danger  was  really  over,  answered  as 
nonchalantly  as  possible,  albeit  with  a  for- 
eign tremor  in  his  husky  voice :  — 

"Oh,  no!  That  warn't  nothing.  That 
happens  every  day.  You  '11  get  used  to  it 
when  you  've  fished  as  much  as  me." 

Hensleigh,  who  did  not  suspect  that  Fa- 
ther Morrison  had  all  the  burden  he  could 
bear,  and  was  making  the  last  magnificent 
bluff  of  his  life,  answered  tartly :  — 


THE   POINT  113 

"That  may  be.  You  may  like  that  sort 
of  a  thing,  but  I  don't.  Get  out  the  horn, 
and  I  '11  blow  it  while  you  steer.  We  ought 
to  have  had  it  out  before." 

Then  up  spoke  Father  Morrison,  and  in 
a  petulant  tone  he  uttered  these  memorable 
words :  — 

"There  ain't  no  horn  aboard."  Not  dar- 
ing to  look  at  his  passenger,  the  old  man 
stroked  his  white  beard,  stained  red  under 
the  mouth,  and  peered  vaguely  into  the  wall 
of  fog. 

"No  fog-horn  !  "  repeated  Hensleigh  in- 
credulously. "  Do  you  mean  that  you  have 
gone  out  on  this  rickety  boat  with  neither 
compass  nor  fog-horn?  What  will  Mrs. 
Hensleigh  say?"  This  last  question  was 
asked  in  a  menacing  stage  whisper. 

"If  she  knows  on  it,"  —  Father  Morrison 
spoke  with  the  deliberation,  with  the  threat- 
ening nodding  of  the  head,  and  with  the 
gruff  accent  of  one  who  takes  his  last  stand 
for  life,  —  "if  she  ever  finds  it  out,  there 
ain't  no  more  lobsters  fur  her,  nor  sails  fur 
you.  Our  famblies  will  be  strangers." 


114  THE   POINT 

"If  you  can  assure  her  that  there  is  abso- 
lutely no  danger  in  a  little  fog  like  this, 
and  forget  to  mention  little  incidents  like 
those  of  the  dogfishes  and  the  cat  —  I  will 
undertake  to  preserve  your  reputation  for 
seamanship  intact  with  my  wife."  As  Hens- 
leigh  spoke,  twinges  of  remorse  tweaked  his 
heart.  To  withhold  information  is  some- 
times the  greater  sin.  He  looked  at  the  old 
man  with  renewed  interest.  They  had  be- 
come partners  in  dissimulation.  He  felt  as 
if  they  ought  to  be  arrested  for  conspiracy. 

"Done!"  said  Father  Morrison  with  a 
slight  twinkle  in  his  faded  eyes ;  and  with 
that,  the  two  clasped  guilty  hands.  "Now," 
said  the  skipper  in  a  matter-of-fact  tone, 
and  with  a  face  that  was  cleared  with  relief, 
"I  have  shaped  her  course  more  easterly 
towards  the  shore  so  as  to  keep  her  out  of 
the  channels,  and  if  you  '11  take  the  helium, 
I  '11  go  for'ard  and  sense  for  the  rocks. 
You  needn't  be  afeard;  you  steer  her  ez  I 
say." 

Alexander  Hensleigh  now  took  the  tiller 


THE   POINT  115 

with  a  feeling  of  profound  responsibility. 
Neither  of  the  two  men  felt  inclined  to  talk 
any  more.  They  had  now  approached  quite 
near  to  the  Point  —  the  tongue  of  land  that 
ended  in  the  white  government  station  and 
the  fog-bell,  which  tolled  its  warning  in 
precise  intervals.  Here  and  there  in  the 
water  were  the  black  buoys  of  sunken  lob- 
ster pots,  and,  seeing  these,  Father  Morri- 
son felt  entirely  at  home.  As  he  had  ex- 
plained, a  fog  meant  absolutely  nothing  to 
him.  The  more  dense,  the  more  he  pitted 
his  forty  years  of  harbor  and  coast  expe- 
rience against  it.  It  was  not  the  'fog  he 
feared,  —  it  was  the  lady. 

"  Ease  her  off  a  little !  Hard  up !  Give 
her  another  p'int  to  the  south 'ard!"  He 
gave  these  and  similar  orders  in  a  low,  pene- 
trating voice,  and  these  the  landsman  ex- 
ecuted with  zeal  and  sense. 

All  at  once  a  rasping,  disagreeable,  high- 
pitched,  squeaky  bark  rose  above  the  rumble 
of  the  breakers  not  many  fathoms  away. 

"It's  Matthew  Launcelot !"  cried  Hens- 


116  THE   POINT 

leigh,  starting  up.  "It 's  the  dog!  Mrs. 
Hensleigh  's  on  the  Point  waiting  for  me. 
What  shall  I  do?"  His  own  anxiety  for 
her  now  reciprocated  the  misery  which  he 
knew  that  she  suffered  on  his  account.  He 
also  felt  like  a  boy  caught  playing  hookey. 
The  terrier,  as  if  scenting  the  approach  of 
his  not  too  well-beloved  master,  yapped 
viciously  and  shrilly. 

The  fog-bell  replied  with  a  solemn  Boom 
—  Boom !  Still,  the  shore  was  not  in  sight, 
although  the  Flash  was  scudding  along  only 
a  few  yards  away,  ready  to  round  the  Point, 
and  tack  for  home. 

"Keep  still,  Matthew! "  The  clear  voice 
of  a  woman  dominated  the  surf.  This  was 
more  than  Hensleigh  could  bear.  He  stood 
up  in  the  stern,  looking  almost  as  tall  as 
the  mast  in  the  magnifying  mist. 

"  Corona !  Hullo !  Corona,  dear !  I  'm 
all  right.  I  'm  "  — 

"Alec!"  came  the  harrowing  call  from 
the  other  side  of  the  opaque  barrier.  "Is 
that  you?" 


THE   POINT  117 

"Yes,  my  dear!" 

"Oh,  how  could  you?  Where  are  you? 
Come  right  ashore  where  you  are!  The 
Lady  is  here  to  take  you  home.  We  've 
waited  here  all  day,  and  not  a  soul  of  us 
has  had  a  mouthful  of  dinner !  " 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Alexander  was 
much  moved  by  this  address.  He  was  just 
about  to  advise  his  wife  to  get  into  the 
buggy  and  drive  home  and  meet  him  at  the 
wharf,  when  Father  Morrison  cried  out  sud- 
denly :  — 

"Hard  up  there!  Keep  off!  keep  off,  I 
say!" 

Matthew  Launcelot,  having  recognized 
Hensleigh's  voice,  was  barking  with  the  re- 
luctant welcome  which  he  reserved  for  his 
new  master.  He  interrupted  everything 
that  was  said,  and  did  not  assist  that  poise 
of  thought  which  the  situation  required. 

In  his  excitement,  the  landlubber  did  just 
the  opposite  from  what  he  had  been  ordered. 
He  put  the  tiller  hard  down,  and  the  little 
boat,  scudding  before  the  increasing  wind, 


118  THE  POINT 

careened  shoreward  like  a  swooping  gull. 
Then  the  fog  opened,  so  close  were  they  to 
land.  It  disclosed  Corona  standing  above 
them  on  a  jut  of  granite,  while  beneath  her 
the  smooth  rollers  broke  into  white  foam, 
and  chased  each  other  up  and  down  a  broad 
green  fissure. 

"Oh,  Alec!"  she  cried  in  ignorant  rap- 
ture as  the  Flash  appeared  suddenly  to  her 
view,  "I'm  so  glad  you're  safe!  Dinner 
will  be  entirely  spoiled."  She  did  not  no- 
tice that  the  mainsail  flapped  uselessly,  and 
that  the  wind  and  breakers  were  carrying 
the  boat  irresistibly  upon  the  rocks. 

But  Father  Morrison  uttered  a  terrible 
oath.  With  the  agility  of  a  boy  he  darted 
aft  to  the  helm. ,  Hensleigh,  paralyzed  by  the 
disaster  which  his  unpardonable  careless- 
ness had  brought  upon  them,  with  instinct 
to  be  as  near  to  his  wife  as  possible,  dropped 
the  tiller,  passed  the  old  skipper  with  equal 
rapidity,  and  stood  at  the  bow,  with  one 
arm  about  the  swaying  mast.  His  attitude 
was  clearly  one  of  heroism,  and  was  a  faint 


THE   POINT  119 

reminder  of  Casablanca  of  burning  noto- 
riety. But  Hensleigh's  state  of  mind  was 
one  of  biting  humiliation.  To  have  caught 
no  fish  was  maddening  enough,  but  to  end 
the  day  by  running  ashore  in  a  fog,  and 
being  drowned  at  his  wife's  feet  — 

The  ill-fated  Flash  was  lurched  nearer  to 
the  reef.  In  a  few  seconds  it  would  all  be 
over.  No  one  could  cling  in  this  rolling, 
easterly  swell  to  the  rocks,  made  more  slip- 
pery than  a  perpendicular  ice  pond  by  the 
undertow  upon  the  heartless  seaweed.  Agon- 
ized, he  looked  up  at  his  wife.  And  she 
looked  down  upon  him  with  a  white,  set 
fright  upon  her  beautiful  face,  as  she  sud- 
denly realized  her  husband's  fatal  danger. 
Thus,  with  eyes  cemented  together  in  that 
brief  moment  which  preceded  the  catastro- 
phe, and  which  is  always  more  horrible  than 
the  fulfillment  itself,  the  two  awaited  the 
end. 

There  was  a  rising  upon  the  third  crest. 
There  was  a  series  of  fateful  bumps.  There 
was  a  crunching  and  a  grinding,  a  lurching 


120  THE   POINT 

and  a  groaning,  as  if  the  poor  old  Flash 
protested  from  her  very  ribs  against  this 
untoward  end.  This  was  followed  by  a 
cascade  of  foam  that  covered  the  vessel,  and 
a  final  thrust  as  if  the  great  Atlantic  had 
given  the  fishing-boat  a  playful  dig  with  its 
little  finger.  Still,  Hensleigh  grasped  the 
mast  in  the  rigid  embrace  of  despair.  He 
meant  to  go  down  with  his  colors  flying. 
He  did  not  notice  that  the  Flash  had  re- 
sumed its  even  keel,  and  had  not  begun  to 
be  dashed  to  kindling  wood.  But  he  was 
aroused  from  his  premortuary  reverie  by  a 
coarse  command :  — 

"Hello  there,  you  blanked  idgit!  Why 
don't  ye  step  ashore  there  lively,  before  the 
next  comber  wets  yer  pants !  " 

Hensleigh's  eyes,  which  had  become  al- 
most glazed,  now  opened  as  with  a  galvanic 
shock.  To  his  surprise,  he  noticed  that  dry 
land  extended  itself  indefinitely  before  him. 
Above  him  stood  his  wife.  He  could  al- 
most touch  her.  In  fact,  she  bent  over  and 
reached  down  her  arm.  He  clasped  her 


THE   POINT  121 

firm  Land,  and  stepping  from  the  rail  of 
the  Flash,  he  put  his  left  foot  in  a  little 
crack  in  the  rocks,  unwet  by  the  risen  tide, 
and  in  a  second  he  had  his  wife  in  his  arms. 
The  infinite  separation,  the  awful  fog,  the 
territle  danger,  the  providential  escape  — 
even  Father  Morrison  —  all,  all  were  forgot- 
ten in  that  rapturous  embrace.  The  light- 
house keeper  turned  his  head  delicately 
away,  and  tried  to  repress  a  rising  sob. 
He  was  used  to  great  dramas,  but  not  to 
great  love. 

At  last  the  lovers,  satisfied  that  they  still 
had  each  other,  unclasped  and  looked  about. 
It  suddenly  occurred  to  them  that  Father 
Morrison  might  have  offered  up  his  life  to 
save  his  passenger.  They  looked  down  for 
the  martyr.  There  stood  their  trusty  friend 
leisurely  lowering  the  mainsail,  and  the 
waters  lapped  at  him  in  vain.  He  caught 
their  anxious  glance,  and  answered  it  quiz- 
zically. 

"Ye  need  n't  be  skeered.  Ye  see,  this  is 
the  only  landin' -place  on  the  hull  coast,  and 


122  THE   POINT 

puffektly  safe  at  high  tide.  Ye  said  ye 
wanted  him  right  now,  an'  when  a  woman 
gets  sot,  an'  makes  a  p'int  on  't,  there  ain't 
nothing  else  to  do,  so  I  steered  her  right  in. 
That 'sail." 

He  bent  to  tie  his  frayed  rope  stops  about 
the  worn  mainsail  with  the  same  peaceful 
air  that  he  would  have  exhibited  at  his  own 
mooring. 

"But  wasn't  it  awfully  dangerous?" 
asked  Corona  solemnly. 

By  this  time  Matthew  Launcelot  had 
come  to  himself.  He  had  leaped  upon  the 
deck,  and  was  squealing  at  Father  Morri- 
son's legs  to  be  caressed. 

"Dangerous!"  shouted  the  old  man  con- 
temptuously, as  he  put  the  little  dog  into 
a  fold  of  the  sail  and  stroked  its  bony  head. 
"I  don't  suppose  ye  mean  to  insult  me, 
Miss  Corona,  but  I  gen'rally  land  here 
twic't  a  season  an'  sometimes  more.  There 
ain't  a  safer  nor  a  cosier  berth  on  the  coast, 
specially  when  ye  want  to  make  the  light- 
house or  the  P'int." 


THE   POINT  123 

The  keeper  bit  his  lips.  Father  Morri- 
son calmly  took  down  the  jib.  His  face 
did  not  relax  its  serenity.  Corona  scanned 
it  closely,  and  then  breathed  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief. She  had  always  trusted  Father  Mor- 
rison. Why  should  she  not  now,  especially 
as  he  had  brought  her  husband  to  her  so 
safely,  so  promptly,  and  with  such  wonder- 
ful skill?  Truly,  he  was  the  best  skipper 
on  the  whole  coast. 

Alexander  opened  his  mouth  generously 
to  explain  his  careless  part  of -the  perfor- 
mance, but  out  of  the  tail  of  the  lobster- 
man's  windward  eye  he  observed  a  warning 
gleam.  He  only  said,  thinking  he  might 
as  well  keep  up  his  own  reputation,  — 

"Shall  I  put  the  fish  in  the  buggy, 
Coro  ?  "  But  Corona  had  turned  away. 

"I'm  —  pretty  tired,"  she  said  weakly. 
"Let  us  get  right  home.  And,  Alec,  you 
must  thank  the  keeper.  He  has  been  very 
patient  with  me  to-day.  As  for  a  fish,  I 
never  want  to  see  one  again !  " 

When  the  couple  had  crossed  the  creek, 


124  THE   POINT 

and  the  buggy  was  well  out  of  sight,  the  two 
men  who  were  left  gave  each  other  a  look 
which  it  would  take  a  library  to  interpret. 

"Say,  uncle,"  observed  the  lighthouse 

keeper  slowly.  "How  in did  you  do 

it?  I  thought  you  were  gone,  sure.  And 
so  natural -like !  " 

"Never  you  mind.  It's  did,  and  he's 
safe,  thank  God!  I  '11  come  down  to-night 
when  the  tide  serves,  an'  I  guess  we  kin 
shove  her  off,  an'  if  not  —  I  '11  only  charge 
him  fifty  dollars.  He  '11  see  the  p'iut.  But 
she  won't  never  know." 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it.  It's  between  us, 
uncle."  Then,  with  great  wonder  at  the 
miraculous  deliverance  of  boat  and  crew, 
the  light-keeper,  learned  above  most  men 
of  the  coast  in  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  said 
gently:  "Gor!  I  wouldn't  hurt  her  fur  the 
world.  She  's  a  lady,  she  is." 

And  over  the  rugged  face  of  the  old  fish- 
erman there  stole  a  look  of  tenderness  and 
of  solemn  gratitude.  This  glorified  him 
into  a  different  man. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   MARCH    OF   PROGRESS 

"WHY,  there's  the  Bobby  T. !  "  ex- 
claimed Corona.  She  put  a  pound  or  two 
more  pull  into  her  left  arm,  and  the  Sand- 
piper turned  its  blunt  prow  towards  a  half- 
hidden  cove.  The  Sandpiper  was  Corona's 
rowboat;  a  dingey,  the  fishermen  called  it; 
it  was  a  cross  between  a  dory  and  a  skiff. 

The  two  had  now  formed  the  habit  of 
rowing  after  supper.  Corona  liked  to  do 
all  the  nautical  work.  She  brought  the 

O 

boat  in  hand  over  hand  on  the  hauling-line 
which  was  fastened  to  two  broken  oar  han- 
dles driven  into  a  cleft  of  the  red  granite. 
She  deftly  untied  the  wet  sailor's  hitch 
while  Alexander,  carrying  the  straight- 
bladed  oars,  admiringly  looked  on.  Hens- 
leigh  had  no  objection  to  being  rowed  out 
into  the  pathway  of  the  setting  sun,  and 


126  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

back  into  the  red  avenue  of  the  rising  moon. 
They  filled  these  happy  hours  with  lovers' 
"little  language."  When  Corona  rested 
on  her  oars  and  sang  softly,  Hensleigh  beat 
a  tinkling  time  with  his  palm  upon  the  reso- 
nant sea.  Sometimes  he  rocked  the  boat, 
and  the  hollow  "chunk!"  of  the  flat  bow 
sounded  in  the  stillness  like  a  tertiary  frog. 
Now  they  drifted  with  the  tide  up  the  har- 
bor, and  now  the  silent  current  carried 
them  out  into  the  breadth  of  the  bay.  One 
evening  they  studied  the  marvelous  color 
transformations,  cheek  to  cheek,  so  that 
neither  should  miss  the  slightest  miracle 
that  the  other  saw,  and  their  hearts  were 
full  of  awe,  and  their  tongues  of  silence, 
because  they  were  permitted  to  live  together 
in  such  a  world.  "Dear,"  Corona  would 
whisper,  fearing  to*  mar  by  a  breath  the 
transcendent  loveliness,  "  Heaven  cannot  be 
more  beautiful;"  and  he  answered  with  a 
solemn  inclination.  Indeed,  there  are  no 
more  wonderful  sunsets  in  all  the  world 
than  those  at  Fairharbor,  and  the  tints  that 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  127 

are  the  despair  of  artists  are  often  the  inspi- 
ration of  lovers. 

This  evening  they  started  home  when  the 
dew  was  heavy,  and  the  thwarts  and  the 
gunwales  were  wet  beneath  their  hands. 
Hensleigh  looked  up  at  his  wife's  exclama- 
tion, and  in  the  dimness  of  the  twilight  saw 
two  unfamiliar  masts  in  a  familiar  place. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  Betsy  T.?"  he 
asked  lazily. 

"The  Bolly  T.  It  's  our  landlord's 
fishing-boat.  He  's  been  off  more  than  six 
weeks  on  a  trip  to  Block  Island,  so  Zero  says, 
and  they  were  beginning  to  be  very  anxious 
about  him.  I  am  glad  he  's  come  home." 

Hensleia'h  showed  no  enthusiasm  on  the 

O 

subject.  It  seemed  as  remote  to  him  as 
that  other  which  Corona  introduced  a  few 
minutes  ago.  What  had  he  to  do  with 
Heaven  or  with  landlords?  Honeymoon 
and  Paradise  were  enough  for  him.  They 
swept  by  the  little  fishing-schooner,  bumped 
up  against  the  weeds,  hauled  the  Sandpiper 
out,  and  crept  up  the  damp  rocks  hand  in 
hand.  Puelvir  met  them  on  the  piazza. 


128  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

"  Ye  never  can  tell  what  mought  not  hap- 
pen, when  ye  V  out,  Miss  Corona,"  she  be- 
gan sepulchrally.  "I  never  did  favor  that 
man,  and  now  I  know  why." 

"  What  man?  "  asked  Corona  pleasantly. 
"The  raspberry  man?  " 

"It'swuss  than  that.  He  would  n't  'a' 
had  the  gall.  It 's  that  there  landlord  of 
ourn.  I  wish  they  'd  put  him  into  a  lob- 
ster-pot and  made  bait  of  him.  He  's  rose !  " 

"Rose?"  Hensleigh  looked  around  anx- 
iously, expecting  to  see  a  man  towering 
from  the  rocks. 

"What  can  have  happened?"  asked  Co- 
rona, troubled.  She  held  out  her  hand  for 
the  note,  which  Alexander  deftly  took  and 
read  aloud  by  the  parlor  lamp. 

To  Miss  CORONA  AND  GENTLEMAN  : 

For  season  of  18 — .     To  rent  of  50  sq.  ft.  ground 

lease 

To  cottage  for  one  tenant     .         .         .     $25.00 
"  two  tenants    .         .         .       50.00 

Received  cash 25.00 

Owe 25.00 

Received  payment, 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  129 

"Why,  I've  paid  my  summer  rent!  I 
pay  it  every  spring  before  I  come  down," 
began  Corona  excitedly.  "I  hold  his  re- 
ceipt. Don't  you  remember,  dear?  I  paid 
it  that  day." 

"He  said,"  interrupted  Puelvir,  "that  he 
wa'n't  consulted  about  her  marriage.  That 
wa'n't  in  the  contract.  He  says  he  's  upsot 
comin'  back  from  Block  Island  and  findin'  an 
extra  one  on  his  premises.  'T  wa'n't  in  the 
bargain,  and  he  's  goin'  to  be  paid  fur  it." 

"Great  Caesar's  ghost!  "  ejaculated 
Hensleigh. 

"Dear  me,  Puelvir!  "  echoed  Corona.  It 
was  the  only  oath  she  knew,  and  the  maid 
was  used  to  it. 

Puelvir  now  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
with  an  air  of  unprecedented  embarrass- 
ment. 

"I'd  rather  tell  ye  the  rest  alone,  Miss 
Corona  —  worse  take  him!  "  she  said,  doub- 
ling up  her  fists. 

Alexander,  feeling  that  he  was  de  trop, 
put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  walked  out 


130  THE  MARCH  OF  PROGRESS 

on  the  piazza,  whistling.  Puelvir's  voice 
now  sank  to  a  gruesome  whisper,  and  she 
looked  over  her  shoulder  to  be  sure  that  no 
one  was  eavesdropping. 

"He  says,  Miss  Corona,  that  if  ye  should 
ever  have  a  fambly,  he  intends  to  charge 
twenty-five  dollars  a  head  fur  each  one  on 
'em.  He  seems  he  can't  be  reconciled  to 
yer  gettin'  married  nohow;  and  if  ye  'd  con- 
sulted him,  and  not  sprung  it  on  him,  he  'd 
'a'  told  ye  so.  Most  of  the  folks  on  the 
P'int  feel  the  same  way,"  added  Puelvir 
with  a  touch  of  pardonable  malice. 

"Dear  me,  Puelvir!"  repeated  Corona 
more  faintly  than  before.  "Why,  this  is 
terrible ! " 

"Ye  see,"  added  Puelvir  in  an  instructive 
tone,  "every  one  of  'em  around  here  thinks 
they  own  you." 

"Give  me  that  bill,"  said  Hensleigh, 
coming  in.  "I  '11  attend  to  it.  Twenty- 
five  dollars  extra  is  a  small  matter  for  the 
tenancy  of  Paradise.  I  '11  go  over  and  see 
him  at  once." 


THE   MARCH  OF  PROGRESS  131 

Alexander  kissed  a  tear  away  from  the 
eyes  of  his  troubled  wife,  put  on  his  hat, 
and  hurried  out.  Corona  expected  him  to 
stay  a  long  while,  but  in  about  ten  minutes 
he  came  back.  He  did  not  smile.  At  the 
sight  of  his  grave  face  her  heart  dropped 
heavily. 

"It 's  no  use,  dear,"  began  Hensleigh 
soberly,  "to  try  to  bargain  with  him.  I  of- 
fered to  buy  the  lot  we  lease.  What  do  you 
suppose  he  asked  for  these  fifty  square  feet?  " 

"Five  hundred  dollars?"  Corona's  eyes 
brightened. 

"Twenty  thousand!  He  said  he  's  going 
to  put  up  two  hotels  and  run  out  a  steam- 
boat wharf.  He  spoke  about  a  skating- 
rink,  and  mentioned  a  steam  laundry.  He 
threw  in  a  bowling-alley,  by  the  way.  He 
says  that  fish  is  played  out;  that  four  men 
of  them  on  the  Bobby  T.  only  got  two  half 
barrels  in  six  weeks.  He  's  going  to  sell 
his  boat  and  live  upon  his  property.  He 
says  he  's  going  to  haul  his  land  into  the 
march  of  progress !  " 


132  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

"I  came  here  to  have  a  quiet,  peaceful 
home,"  said  Corona  after  a  long  silence. 
"I  built  it,  I  lived  in  it,  and  I  loved  it  —  I 
can't  stand  seeing  it  spoiled  forever  —  and 
oh!  I  cannot  give  it  up."  Her  lip  quiv- 
ered. 

"Don't!"  he  tried  to  comfort  her. 
"We  can  easily  sell  it;  in  fact,  I  had  an 
offer  for  it  this  evening.  He  said  he  'd 
swap." 

"How  much?"  scornfully. 

"  Why,  he  said  he  'd  swap  the  Bobby  T. 
for  it." 

"The  Bobby  T.  for  Paradise?  I  would 
n't  let  him  have  it  for  forty  thousand  dol- 
lars!" flashed  the  outraged  householder. 
"But  what  shall  we  do?" 

Hensleigh's  heart  echoed  the  words,  but 
he  had  no  solution  to  offer. 

For  a  few  days  the  husband  and  wife 
tried  to  forget  the  matter,  and  go  on  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  But  Alexander 
came  in  one  morning  suddenly,  and  found 
his  wife  with  a  quivering  chin  looking  out 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  133 

of  the  northern  window.  Their  landlord 
and  a  strange  man  with  a  fifty-foot  tape 
were  measuring  ground.  The  husband  per- 
ceived that  he  must  take  matters  into  his 
own  hands,  but,  as  often  happened,  he 
missed  the  opportunity. 

"Who  is  that  man?"  asked  Corona 
fiercely. 

"He  is  the  contractor  for  the  skating- 
rink,  and  he  's  adding  a  proposition  for  a 
band-stand  at  a  very  low  figure." 

"Will  you  please  tell  Zero  to  harness  up 
The  Lady?"  said  Corona  decidedly. 

"  Certainly.     But  what  for  ?  " 

"I  am  going  out  to  hunt  up  a  new  home." 

"And  if  you  have  no  objections,"  Hens- 
leigh  smiled  dryly,  "I  should  like  to  go 
too." 

Corona  asked  Puelvir  to  put  up  a  lunch, 
and  a  supper,  too.  She  added,  in  a  dejected 
tone,  that  she  didn't  know  but  they  'd  bet- 
ter lay  in  stores  for  a  week. 

"I  shall  hunt  till  I  find  another  Para- 
dise," she  firmly  announced.  But  her  heart 


134  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

echoed  her  own  words  with  a  sharp  interro- 
gation. Could  it  be  —  is  it  ever  permitted 
to  any  soul  to  possess  Paradise  more  than 
once  in  a  lifetime? 

Zero  brought  The  Lady.  "We  are  not 
coming  back  till  night,"  Corona  explained. 

"Tight?"  echoed  Zero.  "Yes,  the  har- 
ness is  all  tight.". 

"Night,"  repeated  Hensleigh  in  a  com- 
fortable tone. 

"All  ^ight,"  replied  the  boy  with  a 
smile. 

"He  always  hears  me,"  observed  Alex- 
ander with  superiority. 

Matthew  Launcelot,  between  whom  and 
The  Lady  of  Shalott  existed  an  irreconcil- 
able feud,  trotted  after  the  buggy  as  far  as 
the  gate,  and  sadly  watched  it  wind  up  the 
little  hill.  He  did  not  offer  to  follow. 

Now  began  a  systematic  search  that  lasted 
for  three  days.  They  scoured  the  town  and 
country.  They  inspected  the  cliffs  and 
beaches.  They  priced  shore  lots  and  back 
lots,  and  were  asked  the  same  figure  for 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  135 

both.  Hensleigh  was  looking  for  a  house 
with  a  lot;  Corona  for  a  lot  without  a 
house.  The  man,  who  had  once  been 
worsted  in  a  contest  with  a  builder,  said 
he  'd  rather  camp  out  than  build.  But 
Corona  said  she  'd  just  as  soon  sign  a  con- 
tract with  Mr.  Timbers  as  with  any  other 
archangel.  He  wouldn't  cheat  her  for  the 
price  of  a  whole  trip  of  halibut.  Not  hav- 
ing a  Fairharbor  education,  Alexander's 
mind  received  no  idea  from  this  ten-thou- 
sand-dollar figure. 

The  location  of  Paradise  was  conceded  to 
be  the  most  beautiful  on  the  Massachusetts 
coast.  To  give  this  up  seemed  to  Corona 
like  sacrificing  a  high  ideal  to  a  penny  fact. 

"How  can  I  do  it?"  she  exclaimed  pas- 
sionately. 

Twenty -six  views,  including  sixteen 
houses  —  cottages  and  Queen  Annes,  villas 
and  bungalows  —  fluoresced  before  their 
weary  gaze.  Their  eyes  had  become  Roent- 
gen rays  after  these  few  days'  experience. 
When  they  examined  the  outside  of  a  house 


136  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

they  found  it  unnecessary  for  them  to  go 
within. 

They  spent  the  first  day  riding  around 
the  Cape ;  the  second  day  in  driving  down 
the  coast,  and  the  third  day,  in  despair, 
they  went  to  Carriesquall.  Alexander 
drove.  He  had  never  been  in  Carriesquall, 
and  was  touched  by  this  beautiful  Indian 
name.  Corona  looked  about  retrospec- 
tively, but  The  Lady  of  Shalott  began  to 
act  very  strangely.  Her  head  went  down 
and  her  heels  went  up.  Her  mane  and  tail 
blew  wildly  in  the  wind. 

"She  's  running  away!  "  said  Corona. 

"Running  away!"  exclaimed  Alexander 
contemptuously,  sawing  on  her  bits  with  all 
his  might.  He  was  a  man  of  a  good  deal 
of  muscle,  and  to  have  a  horse  get  the  best 
of  him  in  the  presence  of  his  new  wife  was 
exasperating. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  Corona  gently  remarked. 
"She  does  look  as  if  she  were  walking  to 
a  funeral.  Whoa! " 

"I'll  do  my  own  whoaing!"  Hensleigh 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  137 

shouted,  now  rising  to  his  feet  and  twisting 
the  reins  about  his  hands.  "That 's  no  way 
to  talk  to  a  horse,  anyway.  Shh !  Back ! 
Whoa  there!  Whoa!" 

By  this  time  the  horse  had  taken  the  bit 
between  her  teeth,  and  was  bolting  down 
the  street  at  a  mad  pace.  There  were  no 
citizens  in  sight.  Only  a  few  women  looked 
out  of  the  windows  calmly.  The  street 
seemed  to  end  in  Ipswich  Bay.  The  horse 
had  every  appearance  of  intending  to  sunder 
the  tie  between  herself  and  her  passengers 
in  the  water.  Alexander  became  very  pale. 
The  situation  ceased  to  be  a  talking  matter. 
All  at  once  the  buggy  gave  a  tremendous 
lurch,  turned  a  sudden  corner  on  two  wheels, 
and  The  Lady  made  straight  for  a  barn 
door.  Unhappily,  this  was  only  half  open. 
The  horse  got  in,  but  the  buggy  could  n't. 
The  terrified  passengers  tumbled  out. 
Then  The  Lady  turned  her  beautiful  head 
around,  regarded  her  owner  with  a  pleased 
expression,  and  whinnied  gently. 

At  that  moment  a  kindly  looking  elderly 
man  ran  out  of  the  kitchen  door. 


138  THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

"Why,  this  is  Northeast  Carriesquall ! " 
exclaimed  Corona.  "I  might  have  remem- 
bered. This  must  be  The  Lady's  old  home. 
Why,  you  clever  horse ! "  She  went  up 
and  patted  the  quivering  animal.  "How 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Thumb?  This  is  my  hus- 
band. Alec,  this  is  Mr.  Thumb,  who  sold 
me  an  honest  horse." 

"I  should  think  he  did!  "  growled  Hens- 
leigh.  "It's  the  first  horse  that  ever  got 
the  best  of  me." 

Mr.  Thumb  smiled  benevolently.  "She  's 
some  sperited,"  he  admitted;  "but  my  little 
boy  used  to  ride  her  bareback.  I  'm  glad 
to  see  ye.  What  can  I  do  for  ye?  " 

"Why,  Mr.  Thumb,  I  never  saw  this 
place  before !  "  Corona  looked  out  over  the 
sea.  There  the  lonely  lighthouse  rose  like 
a  great  white  candle  from  the  rocky  coast; 
and  on  the  left  the  high  dunes  flanking  the 
beach  drifted  gradually  to  a  lower  level, 
until  the  sandy  shore  melted  into  the  bay 
far  down  the  desolate  arc. 

"Why,  what  a  peaceful,  pretty   place! 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  139 

You  wouldn't  sell  it,  would  you?"  asked 
Corona. 

Mr.  Thumb,  agitated  by  this  stupendous 
proposition,  disappeared  in  the  house  to 
consult  his  wife.  When  had  anybody  in 
East  Carriesquall  ever  had  an  offer  for  a 
house  before?  But  Hensleigh  backed  the 
horse  out  and  suggested  that  they  would 
ride  over  the  field  and  see  the  place.  "It 
is  really  possible,"  he  admitted. 

"The  Lady  will  be  quite  at  home,"  added 
Corona  pleasantly. 

A  little  cart -path  wound  through  the 
fields.  The  two  followed  it.  A  luscious 
strawberry  bed  was  on  either  side  of  the 
road,  and  The  Lady  sampled  the  berries,  as 
she  went  along,  with  the  air  of  a  horse  who 
had  done  it  before.  They  had  not  pro- 
ceeded a  hundred  feet  when  they  heard 
startling  cries  from  behind  them. 

"Whoa  there!  Back  here!  Get  out! 
Turn  around  !  Look  where  ye  're  goin' !  " 
shouted  Mr.  Thumb.  He  ran  after  them, 
gesticulating  and  vociferating  wildly. 


140  THE   MAR&ff  OF  PROGRESS 

"The  man  must  be  crazy,"  said  Alex- 
ander, driving  on.  "I  '11  be  hanged  if  I'll 
hold  up  for  him!  " 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Thumb's  clumsy 
figure  overtook  the  slowly  moving  buggy, 
and  he  yanked  The  Lady  by  the  bit. 

"Why  didn't  ye  stop  when  I  told  ye?" 
Mr.  Thumb's  face  was  pale  with  terror,  and 
his  hands  shook  with  holy  rage.  "Look 
ahead  there !  Can't  ye  see?  " 

"I  don't  see  anything,"  said  Hensleigh 
obstinately.  But  Corona  looked,  and  she 
saw  hanging  from  a  limb  of  a  tree  —  on  a 
bough  that  their  buggy  must  have  touched 
—  a  black,  swaying,  living  cloud. 

"It 's  bees!  "  cried  Mr.  Thumb.  "Bees 
a-swarmin' !  If  ye  'd  gone  ten  feet  further 
I  would  n't  hev  answered  for  yer  lives  for 
five  minutes.  That  there  mare  would  'a' 
taken  ye  off  the  rocks  into  the  Atlantic 
Ocean !  Easy  there  —  easy ! " 

Stepping  softly  so  as  not  to  awaken  the 
wrath  that  may  easily  be  fatal  to  those  who 
intrude  upon  swarming  bees,  Mr.  Thumb 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  141 

turned  the  horse  in  as  short  an  arc  as  possi- 
ble. But  it  was  almost  too  late.  A  few 
winged  sentinels  had  discovered  the  offen- 
ders and  began  to  drive  them  off.  They 
settled  upon  The  Lady.  The  horse  gave  a 
plunge,  and  before  Hensleigh  could  realize 
what  had  happened  the  two  were  tearing 
out  of  town  at  the  same  gait  as  that  by 
which  they  had  entered.  The  bees  pursued 
their  enemy  for  two  or  three  miles.  Not 
until  the  last  one  flew  into  the  buggy  and 
was  "  squashed  "  by  Alexander  on  his  own 
cheek,  could  he  get  the  horse  under  con- 
trol. 

"I  should  think  this  ended  Northeast 
Carriesquall,"  he  observed  when  he  had  at 
last  yanked  The  Lady  to  her  haunches. 

"I  should  think  it  ended  the  whole 
thing,"  returned  Corona  wearily.  She  wa» 
very  tired.  "I  don't  know  but  we  can  get 
along  where  we  arer'T  she  pleaded.  But 
Alexander  looked  at  her  keenly,  and  with 
masculine  persistence  saved  her  from  her- 
self. 


142  THE  MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

"/  don't  mind  the  racket,"  he  said 
grimly.  "I  can  stand  a  laundry  blowing 
off  steam  every  five  minutes.  A  brass 
band  and  a  season  of  Fairharbor  hops  are 
nothing  to  me.  I  rather  like  a  bowling- 
alley.  Two  summer  hotels,  say  five  hun- 
dred guests  apiece,  turned  loose  on  our 
rocks  and  playing  banjos  on  our  piazza, 
only  make  company  for  me.  I  think 
you  're  right.  I  think  we  'd  better  stay. 
A  steamboat  wharf  "  — 

"Not  for  a  hundred  worlds!"  she  inter- 
rupted hotly.  "Paradise  is  lost." 

"The  serpent  has  spotted  it,"  suggested 
her  husband. 

"Your  language  is  not  exactly  Scriptural, 
my  dear,"  replied  Corona,  trying  to  smile, 
"but  your  facts  are  correct.  There  is  no- 
thing to  be  done.  We  must  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come."  When  Corona  really  made 
up  her  mind  she  stuck  to  it  like  a  limpet  on 
a  rock. 

Alexander  thoughtfully  lighted  a  cigar. 
They  had  come  back  through  the  town. 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  143 

They  had  crossed  the  Cut  Bridge  to  the 
westward.  They  had  left  the  large  ice- 
houses behind  and  were  approaching  West 
Fairharbor  and  its  beautiful  estuaries.  The 
Lady  of  Shalott  was  trotting  lazily.  Sud- 
denly they  came  out  of  the  woods  upon  the 
little  station.  It  was  deserted.  The  bag- 
gage truck  and  two  side  -  tracked  freight 
cars  gave  the  place  the  air  of  an  approach- 
ing boom  that  might  become  metropolitan. 
These  suggested  the  hurry  and  business 
that  were  not,  but  might  be.  They  were 
the  pathetic  amoebce  of  civilization.  Bar 
Harbor  was  started  on  less  than  that. 

But  Corona  was  tired  out.  The  pine 
grove  between  the  station  and  the  river 
looked  attractive.  Alexander  took  the  bri- 
dle off  The  Lady  and  gave  her  the  last  of 
the  oats  for  her  supper.  Corona  had  disap- 
peared. Memories  of  the  honeymoon  trip 
flooded  her  heart  like  happy  music  and 
soothed  her  perplexed  mind.  She  followed 
the  narrow  pine-needle  path  along  which 
Matthew  Launcelot  had  led  them  (it  seemed 


144  THE  MARCH   OF  PROGRESS 

to  her  many  months  ago)  to  the  hospitable 
dory.  It  was  about  the  same  hour,  and 
like  that  other  wonderful  evening  the  air 
was  calm  and  the  tide  lapped  high. 

"There  ought  to  be  a  view  here  some- 
where," she  thought.  "It  must  be  ideal." 
She  could  never  see  through  other  people's 
eyes  the  scene  of  their  voyage  into  a  united 
life.  Everything  about  it  was  glorified. 
To  the  left,  above  her,  was  a  rocky  slope. 
She  ran  up  eagerly.  It  was  not  more  than 
a  hundred  feet  or  so  high.  Half  way  up 
she  turned.  Her  husband  had  gone  down 
to  the  water,  and  was  looking  for  her 
vainly. 

"  Whew — oo !  "  she  tried  to  whistle. 
"I  '11  race  you  up  the  rest  of  the  way !  "  It 
was  not  a  fair  start,  and  he  knew  it;  but 
love  gave  his  feet  wings,  and  she  had  but 
reached  the  summit  when  he  caught  his 
Atalanta  in  his  arms. 

"  Hush ! "  she  whispered.     "  Look !  " 

They  looked,  and  saw  to  the  right  Fair- 
harbor  Bay,  and  beyond,  the  sea.  In  the 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  145 

calm  a  fishing-schooner  was  being  strenu- 
ously towed  to  anchorage  by  six  dories  in 
line  ahead.  The  little  city,  with  its  many 
quaint  towers  that  had  almost  a  Moorish 
appearance,  gave  back  the  changing  colors 
of  the  sunset.  To  the  left  lay  the  purple 
of  Ipswich  Bay,  and  against  its  darkening 
bosom  white  rolling  sand  dunes  gleamed. 
The  river  crept  into  a  thousand  inlets  with 
oily  lassitude,  and  showed  delightful  possi- 
bilities for  the  Sandpiper. 

"Why,  I  don't  know  but  I  might  live 
here."  Corona  thought  she  had  conceded 
a  great  deal.  "  It  is  rather  pretty. " 

"Why,  child!  it's  superb!"  cried  Alex- 
ander, taking  off  his  hat.  "Here's  the 
station  not  three  minutes  away  —  the  water 
right  at  your  feet  —  a  pine  grove  that  is 
worth  a  thousand  dollars  —  the  finest  kind 
of  a  view,  and  Ipswich  Bay  thrown  in. 
I  '11  wager  I  '11  get  it  for  fifty  dollars  an 
acre." 

They  stood  for  a  moment  hand  in  hand. 
Not  a  sound  could  be  heard  but  the  lisping 


146  THE  MARCH  OF  PROGRESS 

of  the  water.  It  seemed  as  if  they  stood 
alone  in  all  the  world.  A  possible  peace 
crept  like  a  dear  friend  toward  them. 

"Well"  —  said  Corona  slowly,  with  a 
long  sigh  of  surrender. 

"I'll  buy  it,"  said  Alexander  in  a  busi- 
ness-like way.  "Let 's  eat  our  supper." 

It  was  nine  o'clock  and  dark  when  they 
slowly  drove  up  to  the  clothes-post  in  the 
back  yard  of  Paradise.  Corona  had  not 
spoken  for  some  time.  Matthew  Launce- 
lot  and  Puelvir  and  Zero  ran  out  to  meet 
her,  all  talking  and  barking  together.  The 
light  looked  out  lovingly  from  the  windows, 
and  the  soft  waves  called  from  the  feet  of 
the  rocks. 

"My  dear  old  home!"  said  Corona. 
"How  can  I  —  can  I  leave  it?" 

Her  husband  put  out  his  hand  in  the 
dark  buggy  to  caress  her  cheek;  he  found 
it  wet. 


THE   MARCH   OF  PROGRESS  147 

About  two  o'clock  next  morning  Alex- 
ander woke  his  wife.  "I've  got  it!"  he 
exclaimed.  "I  can't  keep  it  to  myself. 
You  sha'n't  leave  Paradise.  We  'II  move 
the  house!" 


CHAPTER   VIII 

PARADISE   AFLOAT 

IT  was  a  moving  subject,  and  the  family 
concentrated  their  attention  upon  it.  After 
breakfast  the  next  morning  Mr.  Hensleigh 
mysteriously  disappeared.  He  came  back 
at  twelve  o'clock  with  Mr.  Timbers  and  a 
strange  man.  The  whole  family  ran  out 
to  meet  them.  Matthew  Launcelot  made 
straight  for  the  stranger's  shins. 

"I  've  bought  the  lot,"  began  Hensleigh 
joyously,  "five  acres,  water  front  and  the 
pine  grove.  It 's  a  splendid  lot." 

"Hot?"  drawled  Zero.  "Yes,  sir,  it  is 
hot." 

"Aren't  you  afraid  you  are  going  too 
fast?"  Corona  asked  lovingly  but  cau- 
tiously. 

"Dash  that  dog!  Take  him  off!"  ex- 
claimed the  strange  man. 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  149 

"Drop  him,  Matthew!  "  threatened  Alex- 
ander. "Let  him  alone,  sir.  He 's  the 
new  house-mover." 

Like  all  pet  dogs  Matthew  understood 
everything  that  was  said  to  him  in  the  ver- 
nacular. Comprehending  the  whole  situ- 
ation, he  retreated  in  a  dignified  way  to 
his  mistress'  lap,  loftily  ignoring  his  mis- 
take. 

"This  is  the  house,"  began  Hensleigh 
with  a  business-like  wave  of  the  hand.  "The 
lot,  as  I  explained,  is  on  that  little  knoll  by 
the  West  Fairharbor  station.  What  will 
you  move  it  there  for?  I  should  think  it 
was  about  —  eh  —  three  miles,  possibly  a 
little  more." 

"Hmgh!"  snorted  the  mover.  "It's 
nigh  seven.  What  do  you  say,  George?" 

Mr.  Timbers,  being  appealed  to,  took  out 
his  two-foot  rule,  and,  after  a  few  cabalistic 
measurements  in  the  air,  announced  that  he 
calculated  it  was  about  six  miles  and  seven- 
eighths.  The  two  mechanics  began  to  ex- 
amine the  house  with  expert  expressions. 


150  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

After  some  consultation  they  both  came 
back  shaking  their  heads. 

"'T  ain't  none  of  my  business,"  said  Mr. 
Timbers,  stroking  his  chin  with  a  fatherly 
air,  "though  I  always  have  looked  after 
this  lady  till  now  —  you  see,  I  built  this 
house  —  I  should  advise  ye  to  stay  where 
ye  are." 

"  We  can't,"  interrupted  Puelvir.  " He  's 
rose!" 

"Circumstances  make  it  undesirable," 
observed  Hensleigh  with  some  dignity. 
"We  have  decided  to  move." 

"It's  cheaper  to  sell  her,"  said  the 
mover.  "I  can't  get  her  over  there  fur 
less  than  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
and  me  out  of  pocket  at  that." 

"And  I  couldn't  think  of  doing  the  car- 
penter-work on  her  for  less  than  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty,  and  I  'd  be  losin'  money  on 
it  at  that  price!  "  added  the  builder. 

"Why,  Mr.  Timbers,"  said  Corona  se- 
verely, "you  built  me  the  whole  house  for 
five."  It  dawned  upon  this  young  matron 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  151 

that  her  old  Fairharbor  friends  were  working 
her  new  husband  as  an  unfathomable  mine. 

"Of  course,"  observed  Hensleigh  with  a 
smile,  "I  know  that  both  of  you  gentle- 
men would  only  undertake  this  as  a  mission- 
ary job.  That  goes  without  saying."  He 
gently  motioned  his  wife  away.  After  a 
few  minutes'  talk  with  the  two  men  he  re- 
turned to  Corona.  "We've  struck  a  bar- 
gain," he  said.  "The  mover  will  get  his 
permit  from  the  city,  and  I  '11  run  over  and 
get  mine  from  the  landlord."  Alexander 
and  the  men  walked  off.  The  remainder 
of  the  family  collected  and  breathlessly  dis- 
cussed the  stupendous  situation. 

"Move  the  house!"  exclaimed  Puelvir. 
"You  got  to  move  mine  too.  My  kitchen 
and  bedroom  have  got  to  go  along." 

"Yours  shall  certainly  go,"  Corona  com- 
forted her.  But  in  point  of  fact,  she  felt 
dizzy  with  the  rapidity  of  this  masculine 
energy  that  was  sweeping  through  her  life. 
Left  to  herself  she  would  have  been  all 
summer  coming  to  the  point.  Now  it  was 


152  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

done  in  four  days,  and  even  Tom  had  not 
been  consulted.  The  happy  wife  sighed. 
Was  she  able  to  stand  the  pace  or  not? 

"I  can't  get  to  and  fro  nights  and  morn- 
in's,"  suggested  Zero  miserably.  There 
were  real  tears  in  the  boy's  eyes.  "I  hope 
it  '11  get  stuck  by  the  Baptist  meetin'- 
house." 

"I  bet  it  will!"  cried  Puelvir,  flopping 
her  apron  wildly  around  her  head.  "And 
I  'd  like  to  see  'em  squoze  along  through  by 
where  them  fish  flakes  is,  alongside  of  the 
mast  yard !  That 's  an  uncommon  narrer 
strip." 

"It  is  a  little  narrow  by  the  post-office," 
added  Corona  anxiously. 

"  I  know  a  house  got  stuck  six  weeks  in 
front  of  the  engine-house.  There  was  two 
fires  happened,  and  the  insurance  companies 
made  the  owner  pay  damages."  This  was 
the  longest  sentence  that  Zero  had  ever 
uttered  since  he  had  been  in  Corona's  em- 
ploy. It  must  be  admitted  that  she  hoped 
he  would  not  blossom  out  into  an  orator. 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  153 

But  for  the  second  time  Hensleigh  re- 
turned from  his  landlord  sooner  than  he 
was  expected.  On  this  occasion  he  walked 
along  with  bowed  head,  and  the  two  men 
slunk  behind  him  as  if  they  were  in  dis- 
grace. Corona's  agitated  heart  thumped 
wildly. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "tell  me  the  worst 
first." 

"We  can't  do  it;  he  won't  let  us  move 
the  house  across  his  land." 

"Why,  he's  got  to!  You  must  make 
him,  Alec!" 

"I  can't.  It  isn't  in  the  lease.  You 
forgot  to  put  it  in.  There  isn't  a  word 
about  moving." 

"But  what 's  the  trouble?  Why  does  he 
object?  " 

"Corn  and  cabbages.  He  says  half  of 
his  crop  would  be  ruined."  Alexander  sat 
down  on  the  piazza  chair  heavily.  "I've 
offered  to  pay  for  the  vegetables  twice  over, 
but  he  said  it  wasn't  the  money  he  set  by; 
it  was  the  cabbages,  and  the  hoeing  of 
them." 


154 


PARADISE    AFLOAT 


For  the  first  time  Hensleigh's  business 
experience  failed  him;  he  saw  no  way  out 
of  the  new  difficulty.  The  two  mechanics 
followed  his  example  and  dropped  upon  the 
steps.  They  gloomily  looked  out  upon  the 
harbor. 

"You  can  move  a  house  'most  any  size, 
'most  any  shape,  'most  anywheres,  but  ye 
can't  move  him.  Nobody  ever  could."  The 
house  -  mover  spoke  like  a  graphophone, 
without  expression.  But  Puelvir,  who  was 
calming  the  agitated  group  with  lemonade, 
pungently  remarked :  — 

"If  it  was  me  I  wouldn't  let  him  get 
the  best  of  ye.  You  give  me  my  house  and 
I  '11  get  it  over.  I  '11  sail  it  acrost  in  the 
Sandpiper.  Mebbe  he  's  sot,  but  I  'd  be 
setter!" 

"Hm!  Hm!"  said  Mr.  Timbers,  "that's 
an  idee!  What  do  you  say,  Bill?" 

The  house-mover  did  not  say  anything 
for  ten  minutes.  He  finished  his  lemonade 
at  one  gulp,  put  down  his  glass,  and  walked 
down  to  the  water's  edge.  His  practiced 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  155 

eye  measured  the  rocks  and  the  coast. 
When  he  returned  he  uttered  these  epoch- 
making  words : — 

"If  we  could  hire  them  two  scows  layin' 
up  in  the  inner  cove  at  a  reasonable  figger, 
and  the  sea  wa'n't  too  high,  and  it  didn't 
blow  up  a  breeze  o'  wind,  and  't  wa'n't 
thick,  and  the  tide  served,  I  guess  I  could 
jack  her  up,  and  skid  her  out,  and  tow  her 
over.  I  've  tackled  wuss  jobs  than  this, 
and  lost  no  appetite  over  'em  yet.  What 
do  you  say,  George?  " 

"I  hain't  seen  it  done,"  said  Mr.  Tim- 
bers unenthusiastically,  "but  if  you  say 
'go,'  Bill,  there  ain't  a  man  on  the  coast 
can  beat  ye  when  ye  once  get  at  it." 

A  brief  illumination  passed  over  the 
house-mover's  face  at  his  friend's  compli- 
ment. He  gave  his  hand  a  deprecating 
jerk.  He  followed  this  up  with  a  search- 
ing look  at  Hensleigh,  as  if  to  gauge  his 
daring  and  originality. 

"Do  you  want  us  to  try  it?"  he  asked. 
"If  ye  do,  we'd  better  begin  to  shove  her 


150  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

out  as  soon  as  possible.  It 's  a  calm  spell 
now.  Ye  never  can  tell  what  might  happen 
a  little  later.  Ye  could  n't  do  it  in  the  fall 
nohow." 

"Dear  me!"  said  Corona,  "have  we  got 
to  move  now?  Why,  our  honeymoon  isn't 
over  yet,"  she  added  in  a  low  voice  to  her 
husband.  Alexander  answered  her  whisper 
with  a  fond  look. 

"Just  as  you  .say,  dear.  But  if  we've 
got  to  do  it  the  sooner  it 's  over  the  better." 

"  Well,  I  '11  run  over  and  measure  them 
scows  and  see  what  the  cap'n  of  the  dredger 
says.  If  we  can  put  her  through  you  won't 
be  out  of  pocket  half  what  you  would  if 
ye  sasshayed  her  round  by  the  road,"  re- 
marked the  house-mover,  discreetly  retreat- 
ing from  this  domestic  episode. 

While  the  two  men  were  gone,  Corona 
disappeared  inside  of  the  house.  She  went 
alone.  She  went  from  room  to  room  and 
looked  out  of  each  window,  as  if  to  engrave 
its  individual  view  upon  her  heart  forever. 
Eve,  in  that  other  Paradise,  could  have 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  157 

hardly  felt  sadder  when  the  angel  drove  her 
out  with  the  two-edged  sword.  But  Corona 
had  locked  her  soul.  She  choked  down  her 
feelings,  and  after  a  few  gulps,  and  after 
massaging  her  cheeks  with  her  handker- 
chief, she  came  out  to  her  husband. 

"Alec,  dear,"  she  began  quietly,  "I 
think  you  are  right,  and  the  sooner  it  goes 
the  better." 

Once  in  a  while  a  man  accidentally  hap- 
pens on  an  intuition,  and  this  time  Hens- 
leigh  divined  the  great  struggle  that  made 
his  wife's  decision  a  possibility. 

The  two  men  came  back.  Mr.  Hensleigh 
went  out  to  meet  them.  In  five  minutes 
he  returned.  "It  's  done,"  he  said.  "We 
begin  to  move  to-morrow  morning." 

Corona  gasped.  She  turned  as  pale  as  a 
water  lily. 

"To-morrer  mornin'?"  cried  Puelvir. 
"Ye  can't  move  this  house  to-morrer  morn- 
in', nohow." 

"Ah,"  said  Hensleigh  indulgently,  "and 
why  not,  Puelvir?" 


158  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

"It's  ironin'  day,"  replied  Puelvir  loft- 
ily. All  the  reverence,  all  the  traditions  of 
the  New  Englander  concerning  the  third 
day  of  the  week  were  in  her  words.  The 
house-mover  observed  Puelvir  with  some 
keen  admiration. 

"Your  folks  are  lucky  to  have  one  of 
your  sort,  miss.  I  don't  doubt  they  appre- 
ciate you.  I  should." 

Puelvir  blushed,  and  bridled  like  an  old 
horse  in  a  coltish  moment.  She  could  not 
remember  when  anybody  had  called  her 
"Miss"  before. 

"You  can  go  right  on  ironin'  if  you 
wanter,"  continued  the  house-mover,  "all 
the  same.  Folks  do.  Some  prefer  it." 

"What?  Me  live  in  my  house  while 
we're  sailin'  over?"  cried  Puelvir  gleefully. 
"Land!  Miss  Corona,  I  'm  a-goin'  to  do  it. 
I  '11  be  starched  if  I  won't! " 

"  George,  you  '11  have  to  saw  that  kitchen 
off,"  added  the  house-mover.  "The  hull 
thing  won't  set  on  one  scow.  And  you  '11 
have  to  take  down  yer  pictures  an'  crockery, 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  159 

Miss  Corona.  I  s'pose  you  don't  calc'late 
to  stay  aboard,  even  if  that  other  lady  does. 
You  'd  better  move  out  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied 
Hensleigh.  "We  don't  get  this  every  day. 
What  do  you  say,  Corona?  I  gave  up 
Cape  Breton,  and  here 's  a  comic  opera 
yachting  trip  providentially  offered  upon 
the  altar  of  my  unselfishness.  Shall  we 
stay  aboard  —  with  Puelvir  ?  " 

"I'm  ready,"  said  Corona  a  little  senti- 
mentally. "  I  'm  ready  to  stand  by  Para- 
dise." 

"I  wouldn't  miss  the  experience  for  a 
good  deal,"  answered  Hensleigh  with  rising 
spirit.  "Sir,  you  may  prepare  to  move  us 
all." 

"Jes'  as  you  say,"  returned  the  mover 
with  a  meaning  glance  at  Mr.  Timbers.  "I 
hope  ye  won't  have  too  much  on't." 

"Don't  forget  my  clothes-post,"  called 
Puelvir  from  the  kitchen  door.  "That's 
got  to  go!  An'  say!  Be  we  goin'  to  leave 
the  hogshead  'n'  the  coal  bin  behind  us? 


160  PARADISE  AFLOAT 

An'  what  '11  I  do  with  my  wash-tubs  'n'  all 
that  truck  under  the  house?" 

"Will  I  drive  The  Lady  around?"  asked 
Zero  feebly,  "or  are  you  goin'  to  freight 
her  'n'  the  buggy  over?  " 

"Why,  Zero!"  asked  Corona  tearfully, 
"what  are  you  crying  about?" 

"He  thinks  he  's  lost  his  sitiwation,"  ex- 
plained Puelvir.  "He  thinks  he  can't  walk 
no  seven  miles  twic't  a  day  to  'n'  fro.  I 
told  him  you  'd  camp  him  out  someways.  I 
never  knew  you  go  back  on  nobody." 

"Why,  we'll  build  him  a  little  room," 
interrupted  Hensleigh  carelessly. 

When  it  became  known  in  Fairharbor 
that  Paradise  was  to  be  moved  —  and 
moved  by  water  —  public  sentiment  fer- 
mented. Half  the  population  of  the  Point 
was  on  the  ground  at  seven  o'clock  the  next 
morning  when  Mr.  Timbers  and  the  house- 
mover  arrived.  The  only  conspicuous  ab- 
sentee was  the  landlord. 

That  day  the  temporary  "way"  or  trestle 
was  put  up,  upon  which  Paradise  was  to 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  161 

slide  into  the  harbor.  The  day  after  the 
two  scows  backed  up  against  the  rocky 
headland  and  complacently  observed  the 
furore  that  their  unprecedented  appearance 
occasioned.  Coincident  with  this  the  house- 
mover  and  a  large  gang  put  their  desecrat- 
ing hands  upon  the  foundations  of  Paradise. 
The  building  trembled.  Trellis  and  sheath- 
ing were  ruthlessly  cut  away.  The  china 
tinkled.  Lamps  tottered.  Pictures  swayed, 
and  books  dropped  from  their  cases.  Mat- 
thew Launcelot  made  for  the  house-mover 
with  a  terrific  howl.  Hensleigh  watched 
the  proceedings  with  scientific  serenity. 
But  Corona  turned  pale.  Puelvir  was 
wildly  excited.  She  ran  from  room  to  room, 
sticking  her  head  out  of  every  window  in 
the  house.  The  great  jacks  began  to  writhe 
and  creak.  Paradise  thrilled  and  groaned. 
There  was  a  slow,  sickening,  upward  motion 
of  the  building.  Puelvir,  in  an  ecstasy, 
cried  out :  — 

"Well,  if  he  's  rose,  he  '11  find  out  we  've 
rose  too! " 


162  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

She  ran  back  to  her  kitchen.  The  door 
was  opened  into  it  from  the  dining-room. 
She  looked  and  then  uttered  a  great  cry 
that  rang  even  above  the  orders  of  the 
mover,  the  stretching  of  the  ropes,  the  clank 
of  the  windlass,  and  the  shouts  of  the  land- 
lord, who  was  vainly  trying  to  keep  hordes 
of  excited  sightseers  away  from  his  cabbages. 
"Hold  on!  Stop  there,  mister!  You've 
left  my  house  behind !  " 

The  kitchen  had  been  sawed  through  so 
deftly  while  she  was  making  the  beds  that 
its  excision  had  escaped  Puelvir's  notice. 
As  the  main  house  rose,  the  kitchen,  with 
an  indifferent  air,  remained  in  statu  quo. 
Puelvir  could  hardly  credit  her  senses. 
Little  by  little,  like  a  nightmare,  the  kitchen 
door  grew  small  and  smaller.  Would  she 
be  shut  out  of  her  own  house  forever?  Her 
precious  kitchen,  her  new  kitchen,  and  the 
bedroom  on  top!  The  maroon  and  indigo 
curtains!  A  blind  instinct  took  Puelvir, 
and  with  a  gaunt  leap  like  a  kangaroo  she 
plunged  down  through  the  narrowing  door- 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  163 

way,  past  the  widening  space,  into  her  own 
domain. 

"Ef  you  leave  this  here  kitchen  behind 
you  leave  me !  " 

Puelvir  set  her  arms  akimbo  defiantly, 
but  big,  angry  tears  were  rolling  down  her 
cheeks. 

"There,  there,  Puelvir,"  sobbed  Corona, 
"I  told  you  the  kitchen  should  go  too. 
Come  here  and  help  me,  quick !  The  vases 
are  on  their  heads.  The  water  pitchers  are 
all  wobbling.  Oh,  see  the  water  leaking 
through  the  ceiling  —  and  the  teacups  "  — 

The  house  swayed  and  lurched.  The 
family  gathered  wildly  to  protect  their  altars 
and  fires.  Matthew  Launcelot's  maddening 
howls  rose  above  the  din. 

Mr.  Hensleigh  laid  all  the  pictures  care- 
fully upon  all  the  beds,  and  then  sat  down 
hard  on  several  and  broke  the  glass.  Co- 
rona put  all  her  best  china  between  the 
sofa  pillows,  and  Puelvir  laid  two  coal-hods 
and  Johnson's  big  Atlas  on  top  of  them. 
A  mental  aberration  seized  the  household 


164  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

like  that  which  possesses  a  family  when  the 
house  is  on  fire. 

And  now  the  cottage  rolled  out  towards 
the  water.  The  excitement  became  intense. 
Mad  cheers  arose  from  the  spectators.  But 
the  mover's  lips  tightened  apprehensively. 

"We've  got  to  resk  her,  Bill,"  he  mut- 
tered to  his  foreman.  "  If  the  tide  drops  on 
us  before  we  get  her  on  to  them  scows  it  '11  be 
an  all-night  job  of  it,  and  plenty  of  it,  too." 

Hensleigh  watched  the  process  with  great 
anxiety.  Supposing  Paradise  should  be 
lurched  into  the  bay  at  the  last  moment! 
Happily,  the  women  of  the  family  knew 
nothing  of  any  such  possibility. 

The  tide  was  high  at  six,  and  it  was  now 
nearly  that  hour.  The  two  scows  leaned 
expectantly  towards  their  approaching  bur- 
den. They  were  lashed  together  and  an- 
chored to  the  granite  cliffs.  A  little  out 
beyond  the  traps  a  fussy  tug  officiously  blew 
off  steam,  as  if  protesting  against  a  miscal- 
culation that  everybody  seemed  to  expect. 

And  now  the  kitchen  L  tagged  after  the 


PARADISE  AFLOAT  165 

house  valiantly,  like  a  seine-boat  towed  by 
a  lazy  schooner.  Puelvir  and  Zero  stood 
sculptured  in  the  open  space  where  the  wall 
had  been  sawed  off.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hens- 
leigh  and  Matthew  Launcelot  occupied  the 
main  house.  The  crowd  watched  breath- 
lessly. Hensleigh  consumed  his  tenth  cigar. 
But  Corona,  who  could  not  smoke,  trem- 
bled. 

All  at  once  Paradise  gave  a  great  dip. 
The  scows  swayed  ominously.  The  tug 
backed  up  with  its  huge  warp  ready  for  a 
strong  pull. 

"Lord  have  mercy  on  us  for  a  fambly  of 
fools  and  loonys!  Here  we  be!"  cried 
Puelvir  hysterically. 

And  now  the  kitchen  L  followed  its 
leader  obediently.  The  tide  had  fallen  half 
an  hour.  One  side  of  the  flat  scows  was 
held  up  upon  a  jut  in  the  rocks.  When 
Puelvir 's  L  was  slowly  adjusted  to  its  place 
the  scows  tipped  still  farther  over  with  the 
added  weight.  The  captain  of  the  tug, 
from  the  pilot-house,  shook  his  head  omi- 


166  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

nously.  If  the  scows  stuck  and  could  not 
be  pulled  off,  he  knew  the  chances  were  that 
at  the  fall  of  the  tide  Paradise  would  be 
utterly  wrecked.  He  blew  three  impatient 
blasts. 

"All  aboard!  "  shouted  the  mover. 
"Don't  mind  jacks  nor  ways  nor  nothing! 
Let  her  go,  quick!  " 

The  blue  water  foamed,  and  the  tug 
churned  as  she  had  never  churned  before. 
The  two  scows  groaned  and  crunched  and 
slid,  and  held,  and  slid  again,  and  held 
once  more.  Hensleigh  and  Corona  looked 
at  each  other.  He  was  so  disturbed  that 
she  tried  to  comfort  him.  A  moment  would 
decide  the  fate  of  Paradise. 

Then  the  captain  of  the  tug  shouted  to 
the  fireman,  and  the  fireman,  who  had  been 
looking  out  of  his  side  door,  disappeared. 
The  screw  turned  as  if  it  would  strain  itself 
into  an  apoplexy.  The  hawsers  cracked. 
The  scows  scraped  —  scraped  —  and  were 
free.  There  was  a  great  splash.  There 
was  a  sudden  sinking  —  Corona  thought  it 


PARADISE   AFLOAT  167 

was  their  destruction,  but  Hensleigh  knew  it 
was  their  salvation.  Puelvir  shrieked,  but 
Zero  was  as  mute  as  a  monkfish. 

"We'll  be  drownded!"  cried  Puelvir, 
prancing  about  the  kitchen  like  a  maniac. 
But  the  fireman  of  the  tug  looked  at  her, 
and  with  a  kind  gesture  of  his  big  hand 
comforted  her. 

"Well,"  said  Alexander,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  "we  're  afloat  now  and  as  safe  as  can 
be.  Let 's  take  one  more  look  at  the  old 
place  and  bid  it  good-by.  We  '11  have  a 
better  soon,  dear." 

Corona  sighed,  and  leaning  on  her  hus- 
band's arm  she  turned  to  look.  Behind 
them  sloped  a  desolated  rock.  The  hogs- 
head and  the  coal  bin  ornamented  the  per- 
spective. The  landlord  bowed  unmoved 
among  the  cabbages.  The  water  widened. 

"Stop!  Whoa!  Back!  We've  gotter 
go  back!"  shrieked  Puelvir  suddenly. 
"  Mr.  Hensleigh,  they  ' ve  gotter  go  back ! 
Whoa,  there !  Whoa !  They  've  fergotten 
my  clothes-post! " 


168  PARADISE   AFLOAT 

"Go  and  get  supper,  Puelvir,"  said  the 
mistress  authoritatively.  "Light  your  ker- 
osene stove,  and  do  the  best  you  can." 

But  still  the  water  widened,  foam  flew, 
and  the  sea  looked  black.  Corona  and  her 
husband  watched  the  receding  shore  in 
silence.  At  that  moment  a  carriage  rolled 
up  to  the  clothes-post.  A  gentleman  got 
out  —  then  a  lady  —  then  a  child.  They 
looked  perplexedly  about  them. 

" It 's  Tom !  "  cried  Corona.  "  It 's  Tom 
and  Susy  —  and  the  baby  —  come  to  make 
us  a  visit!" 


CHAPTER   IX 

PAEADISE   LOST 

"WELL,  this  is  a  pretty  piece  of  busi- 
ness!" Tom  sat  resting  on  his  oars,  his 
handsome,  good-natured  face  dripping  pro- 
fusely with  the  unexpected  exercise,  and 
contracted  into  something  that  was  not  a 
smile.  Tom  had  put  Susy  and  the  baby 
into  the  first  boat  that  he  could  lay  hands 
on,  and  had  rowed  violently  out  into  the 
wake  of  Paradise. 

"I  say,  Alexander  Hensleigh,  what  are 
you  doing  with  my  sister?"  Tom's  only 
explanation  of  the  sight  before  him  was 
that  Corona  had  married  a  madman.  He 
looked  quite  fierce  —  for  Tom. 

Corona  and  Hensleigh  gazed  down  upon 
their  relatives  from  a  superior  height.  The 
dirty  scow  towered  above  the  little  cedar 
boat.  Corona  looked  at  Susy  and  did  not 


170  PARADISE   LOST 

say  a  word.  Susy  looked  up  at  her  sister- 
in-law  with  unutterable  reproach.  Nothing 
in  the  English  language  presented  itself  to 
Corona's  mind  as  equal  to  the  situation. 

"You  —  see  —  we  thought  we'd  move," 
she  explained  fatuously. 

"It 's  cheaper  by  water,"  exclaimed  Alex- 
ander with  an  embarrassed  air. 

At  this  inopportune  moment  Puelvir,  who 
was  getting  supper,  and  who  had  heard  no- 
thing of  this  unfortunate  arrival,  opened  the 
kitchen  window  with  a  bang.  In  this  half 
hour  she  had  already  acquired  the  nautical 
habit  of  throwing  things  overboard.  Hap- 
pily, it  was  only  a  pan  of  strawberry  hulls, 
but  these  landed  directly  on  the  baby's  head 
and  tumbled  all  over  her  little  spic-and- 
span  dress. 

What  was  merely  a  trifling  coolness  be- 
fore now  threatened  to  become  an  Arctic 
family  breach.  Susy  was  greatly  offended. 
The  little  girl's  clothes  were  spattered  all 
over,  red  and  ruined.  She  looked  as  if  she 
had  come  from  a  battlefield.  Susy  angrily 


PARADISE   LOST  171 

tried  to  pick  off  the  hulls  with  her  white 
gloves  on.  Tom  leaned  on  his  oars  and 
burst  into  peals  of  laughter.  Puelvir's 
hoarse  apologies  made  a  background  to  the 
catastrophe. 

"Here,  Mr.  Hensleigh,"  she  ordered, 
"you  go  take  them  pictur'  glasses,  'n'  water 
pitchers,  'n'  them  two  ker'sene  lamps  off 
the  front  bed,  an'  I  '11  slick  it  right  up  for 
'em.  You,  down  there,  climb  up  some 
way ;  I  '11  give  ye  a  good  supper,  and  after- 
ward I  '11  wash  the  baby  all  out,  bless  her ! 
an'  do  her  up  again!  " 

"Thank  you,  Puelvir,"  said  Susy  with 
unnecessary  dignity.  "We  have  had  quite 
enough  of  your  hospitality.  We  will  go  to 
the  hotel.  Pull  away,  Tom!  " 

Here  Hensleigh  and  Corona  recovered 
their  smitten  senses.  They  cried  out  in 
one  breath :  — 

"Come  aboard.  Do  come  and  stay  all 
night !  —  move  up  with  us  —  stay  a  week ! 
Take  supper,  anyway! " 

"I've  got  griddle  cakes,"  urged  Puelvir 
persuasively. 


172  PARADISE  LOST 

"There  's  maple  sorop!  "  called  Zero  ear- 
nestly, as  if  this  were  an  unanswerable 
argument. 

The  engineer  of  the  tug  put  his  head  out 
of  his  little  window  and  laughed.  The 
deck  hands  grinned. 

"Shut  up  there!"  the  house-mover  said 
with  unnatural  solemnity. 

This  nautical  appreciation  of  the  situation 
did  not  soothe  Susy.  She  shook  her  head 
sternly,  turned  it  away,  and  sank  back  in 
her  seat. 

"Put  about!  "  she  continued  to  Tom. 
"The  idea  of  expecting  me  to  climb  twenty 
feet  up  that  dirty  scow  with  this  dress  on, 
and  the  baby.  I  wouldn't  risk  the  baby 
on  that  thing  " 

"There,  there,  my  dear!"  said  Tom  pa- 
tiently. He  looked  a  little  disappointed, 
but  he  was  a  good  American  husband,  and 
accustomed  to  obey  his  wife  and  keep  peace 
in  the  family. 

"Never  mind,  Sis,  old  girl;  I'll  see  you 
in  the  morning,"  he  called  out  cheerily. 


PARADISE   LOST  173 

"By  the  way,"  he  shouted  when  he  had 
rowed  about  a  hundred  feet,  "whereabouts 
on  the  map  of  New  England  are  you  going 
to  bring  up?  " 

"Squall  River!"  yelled  back  Zero,  in 
behalf  of  the  family.  Zero  could  always 
hear  on  the  water. 

Corona  and  Alexander,  when  their  rela- 
tives had  gone,  settled  back  upon  the  piazza 
and  looked  at  each  other  blankly.  This  epi- 
sode had  stupefied  them  both.  The  even- 
ing air  was  calm,  with  just  enough  zest  of 
the  sea  and  invigoration  in  it  to  make  it 
a  quick  anaesthetic  to  any  mental  turmoil. 
They  had  decided  to  eat  their  supper  on  the 
piazza,  and  Puelvir  now  came  out  of  the 
kitchen  and  across  the  gang  plank,  which 
united  the  two  scows,  bearing  a  tray  in  her 
sinewy  arms,  and  muttering  subdued  im- 
precations on  the  folly  of  their  late  guests. 
She  presented  her  employers  with  a  kero- 
sene stove  supper  of  hot  griddle  cakes  and 
cold  strawberries.  The  piazza  bobbed  up 


174  PARADISE   LOST 

and  down  gently  while  they  ate.  The  tide 
gurgled  under  the  two  scows.  The  tug  cut 
the  water  with  a  slow,  indifferent  motion. 
Paradise  Point  receded  obviously.  The 
mouth  of  Squall  River  yawned  ahead.  The 
sun  was  setting.  The  harbor  was  as  calm 
as  a  washbowl. 

"You're  not  seasick,  are  you,  dear?" 
asked  Hensleigh  anxiously. 

"N — no,"  replied  Corona.  She  might 
have  said  that  she  was  homesick;  but  she 
did  not. 

Alexander  was  in  the  act  of  swallowing 
his  last  strawberry,  and  was  feeling  particu- 
larly happy  and  peaceful  and  at  home,  when 
there  was  a  tremendous  splash.  This  was 
synchronously  accompanied  by  a  loud,  viru- 
lent hissing  of  steam.  Corona  sprang  to 
her  feet.  Matthew  Launcelot  was  already 
on  his.  This  voyage  had  been  a  great 
strain  on  Matthew.  His  little  black  and 
tan  heart  had  almost  beat  itself  out  in  this 
excitement.  He  had  been  accustomed  to 
burglars  who  took  away  a  portion  of  the 


PARADISE   LOST  175 

house,  but  these  malefactors  who  took  away 
the  whole  house  bodily  would  have  puzzled 
the  imagination  of  the  best  watchdog  in 
New  England. 

"Something  terrible  has  happened!  " 
cried  Corona,  paling. 

"It 's  only  the  anchor  overboard,  and  the 
tug  —  she's  letting  off  steam,"  explained 
the  house -mover  paternally.  "Here  ye  are, 
safe  fur  the  night  on  the  edge  of  the  chan- 
nel, and  everything  is  all  right!"  The 
house-mover  put  so  much  relief  into  this 
last  clause  that  Corona  began  to  understand 
the  strain  that  he  had  undergone  in  this 
novel  experiment.  She  sank  back  into  her 
chair  with  a  tremulous  exclamation  of  grati- 
tude. But  Matthew  Launcelot  was  not  to 
be  appeased  by  soft  explanations.  He  made 
a  dive  to  the  side  of  the  scow  to  which  the 
tug  was  lashed.  There  was  no  rail,  and 
the  exhaust  steam,  as  it  came  hissing  from 
below,  obscured  the  edge  of  the  platform. 
The  dog  gave  an  angry  leap  into  the  white, 
hot  fog  — with  a  shriek  disappeared  over 


176  PARADISE   LOST 

the  side  of  the  scow  —  and  with  a  little  but 
significant  splash  fell  into  the  churning 
water. 

Every  owner  of  a  dog  knows  the  cry  that 
only  terror  and  danger  can  evolve  from  a 
canine  throat.  Dogs  talk  with  as  much 
expression  as  people.  Corona  this  time 
knew  that  some  real  trouble  had  happened. 
She  ran  to  the  side  of  the  piazza  towards  the 
tug.  Puelvir,  who  had  also  been  well 
trained  in  the  canine  vocabulary,  dashed 
down  the  improvised  steps  of  her  detached 
kitchen.  The  engineer  of  the  tug  shut  off 
the  steam. 

"Save  him!  Save  him!  Save  him!  " 
cried  Corona,  wringing  her  hands.  "He  's 
all  I  have!" 

At  this  remark,  the  unconscious  survival 
of  her  maiden  days,  Alexander  shut  his  lips 
together  hard. 

"Shall  I  jump  in  after  him?"  he  asked 
perfunctorily.  He  began  to  unbutton  his 
coat. 

"N— no"  — 


PARADISE  LOST  177 

Hensleigh  threw  his  coat  off. 

"No!  No!  No!"  Corona  cast  her 
arms  about  his  neck.  Alexander  struck  a 
heroic  attitude,  and  looked  much  pleased. 

"He's  sunk!"  shrieked  Puelvir  consol- 
ingly. 

"He's  gone  down  twic't,"  drawled  Zero 
leisurely. 

"Good  riddance!"  muttered  the  house - 
mover,  trying  to  look  troubled,  but  instinc- 
tively feeling  of  his  shins. 

At  this  agonized  moment  the  engineer  of 
the  tug  caught  sight  of  the  little  struggling 
figure,  swirling  past  the  stern  of  his  boat. 
He  ran  to  the  rail,  hurled  himself  over, 
held  on  by  one  hand  and  one  foot,  and 
stretched  himself  to  his  full  length.  He 
had  little  space  to  spare.  As  it  was,  there 
was  half  an  engineer  under  the  water;  but 
his  big,  brawny  hand  caught  the  dog  by  his 
tail,  and  swooped  him  up  as  if  he  had  been 
a  bit  of  waste.  Dripping,  handsome,  non- 
chalant, the  engineer  held  the  terrier  up  by 
the  nape  of  his  neck,  and  tossed  him  upon 


178  PARADISE   LOST 

the  scow  at  Corona's  feet.  For  once  in  his 
life  Matthew  would  not  stay  to  be  kissed 
and  cried  over.  He  slipped  from  his  mis- 
tress' embrace,  and  hunted  the  two  scows  all 
over  until  he  found  the  house-mover.  Then 
he  bit  that  worthy  mechanic  incisively  in 
the  leg,  with  the  immovable  conviction' that 
it  was  all  his  fault.  Hensleigh  did  not 
know  it,  but  that  assault  added  fifty  dollars 
to  his  bill. 

Now  Puelvir  looked  upon  the  engineer 
with  much  compassion.  In  her  imagination 
he  was  an  important  nautical  character. 
She  had  read  of  great  deeds  done  at  sea, 
and  now  one  had  been  enacted  before  her 
very  eyes. 

"I  'm  sure,"  she  said  to  him  enthusiasti- 
cally, "the  critter  wa'n't  wuth  the  awful 
resk."  The  deck  hands  smiled  audibly,  but 
Puelvir  loftily  ignored  them. 

"I  wish  it  was  you  I  'd  saved,"  answered 
the  engineer  gallantly.  "Then  it  would 
have  been  something  like." 

"It  wa'n't  nothing  at  all,"  said  the  house- 


PARADISE   LOST  179 

mover  with  unnecessary  decision.  "Look 
at  me.  I  've  hed  worse  resk  'n  he  has.  I  'd 
'a'  done  that  myself!  " 

"Why  didn't  you,  then?  "  retorted  Puel- 
vir,  looking  from  one  mechanic  to  the  other 
with  the  coquetry  that  only  half  a  century's 
experience  can  give.  Then  she  deliberately 
turned  her  back  on  the  landsman,  and 
gazed  softly  down  at  her  nautical  hero. 

"Hadn't  I  better  make  ye  some  catnip 
tea?  Won't  ye  take  cold?"  she  tenderly 
said.  "Or,  perhaps,  ye 'd  rather  let  yer 
wife  fix  ye  up?  "  she  added  sadly. 

"No  such  luck  for  me.  I  wish  I  had!  " 
returned  the  engineer. 

"Then  mebbe  you  'd  eat  a  griddle  cake," 
said  Puelvir,  blushing;  "an'  I'll  run  up- 
stairs an'  get  a  dry  pair  of  Mr.  Hensleigh's 
fur  ye." 

"Not  for  Joseph!"  protested  the  engi- 
neer. "  But  I  will  take  one  o'  them  grid- 
dle cakes." 

In  a  few  minutes,  to  the  envy  of  all  the 
deck  hands  and  to  the  consternation  of  the 


180  PARADJSE   LOST 

house-mover,  Puelvir  passed  down  to  the 
engineer  a  heaping  plate  of  steaming  grid- 
dle cakes,  swimming  in  Corona's  most  ex- 
pensive maple  syrup. 

"I  never  ate  the  like  of  them  before," 
said  the  engineer  with  ecstatic  solemnity 
when  the  plate  was  empty.  "  The  next  time 
I  get  a  chance  I'll  take  another;  and  the 
next  time  I  '11  take  you !  " 

By  this  time  the  captain  of  the  tug,  with 
the  aid  of  the  builder  and  house-mover,  had 
securely  anchored  the  scows,  and  had  at- 
tached to  the  front  piazza  a  white  headlight, 
as  prescribed  by  law  for  anchored  craft. 
The  water  was  now  alive  with  spectators  in 
little  boats.  Such  a  flitting  had  never  been 
seen  in  Fairharbor,  and  the  house-mover 
was  the  hero  of  the  day.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hensleigh  felt  themselves  to  be  very  infe- 
rior characters  in  this  public  drama.  No- 
body paid  any  particular  attention  to  them 
—  not  even  their  own  employees,  who  pro- 
ceeded with  expert  independence  to  make 
all  the  arrangements  for  the  night. 


PARADISE   LOST  181 

The  captain  now  gave  notice  that  he  was 
going  to  steam  to  his  regular  wharf  in  the 
inner  harbor,  and  leave  them  for  the  night. 

"We  always  do,"  he  explained  to  Co- 
rona, who  objected  to  being  left  alone  with 
no  visible  means  of  locomotion  or  protec- 
tion. "I  'd  have  to  charge  you  twenty-five 
dollars  extra,  if  I  laid  alongside  here;  be- 
sides, it  would  n't  do  nohow ;  it  would  be  a 
bad  precedent  for  scows." 

"But  we  're  not  scows!  "  blazed  Corona. 

"It's  all  the  same  to  us  folks,"  waived 
the  captain,  sounding  several  blasts  of  the 
whistle  to  clear  a  way  among  the  small 
boats.  "Ye  couldn't  have  a  safer  nor  a 
fairer  night,  if  ye  chose  out  of  the  hull 
year." 

"  Remember,  dearest,  I  'm  here  to  protect 
you,"  added  Hensleigh  with  his  tenderest 
air. 

"Y — yes,  "  said  Corona  doubtfully. 
"But,  Mr.  Timbers,  won't  you  stay  with 
us  —  and  the  mover,  too?  " 

The  mechanics  shook  their  heads.     With 


182  PARADISE   LOST 

a  final  glance  of  inspection  they  stepped 
aboard  the  tug.  "'T  ain't  necessary,"  said 
the  builder. 

"I've  got  to  milk  two  cows,"  said  the 
house-mover,  "and  I  'm  late  already." 

Without  Corona's  knowing  it,  the  tug 
had  cast  off,  and  imperceptibly  moved  away 
from  Paradise.  The  fleet  of  little  boats 
turned  to  follow  the  tug. 

"You're  all  right!"  shouted  a  cheerful 
fisherman.  "Norman's  Woe  ain't  safer  'n 
you  be." 

Another  husky  voice  took  up  the  theme. 
This  came  from  the  red  dory  of  an  eel- 
spearer.  "Ye  're  faster  where  ye  be  than 
the  whistlin'  buoy.  Ye  'd  hang  there,  a 
night  like  this,  with  a  cod-hook.  There 
ain't  an  air,  and  there  won't  be  none." 

But  Father  Morrison,  from  his  green 
lobster-boat,  wet  the  forefinger  of  his  right 
hand  and  turned  it  to  all  points  of  the  com- 
pass. Then  he  shook  his  head  sagely.  He 
did  not  speak.  His  last  nautical  experience 
with  the  Hensleigh  family  had  created  in 


PARADISE  LOST  183 

Father  Morrison  an  unprecedented  humil- 
ity. He  rowed  home  without  communicat- 
ing with  Paradise,  for  he  did  not  want  Mrs. 
Hensleigh  to  ask  him  what  he  thought  about 
the  weather. 

Left  to  themselves  for  the  first  time,  the 
family  began  to  make  strenuous  prepara- 
tions for  the  night.  As  Puelvir's  house 
was  entirely  open  to  public  view  where  it 
had  been  sawed  off,  her  maiden  meditations 
were  a  good  deal  disturbed.  She  took  down 
her  maroon  and  indigo  curtains  from  her 
windows,  and  hung  them  at  full  width  across 
the  opening.  As  these  did  not  suffice,  she 
nailed  up  some  sheets  and  a  red  and  white 
patchwork  bed  quilt.  Upon  her  windows 
she  modestly  pasted  several  copies  of  the 
Fairharbor  "Evening  Gale."  Then,  hav- 
ing satisfactorily  inspected  these  arrange- 
ments, she  sat  down  upon  her  bed  and  be- 
gan to  crimp  her  hair.  She  only  did  this 
on  great  occasions.  Puelvir  was  thinking 
of  the  engineer. 

"Where's   Zero?"    cried    Corona    sud- 


184  PARADISE   LOST 

denly,  from  the  main  house;  "we  can't  find 
him  anywhere!" 

Puelvir  put  her  head  out  between  the 
bedquilt  and  the  curtains.  Lucky  for  the 
engineer  that  he  did  n't  see  her  then !  " Zero  ? 
Why,  he  's  plumb,  dumb  asleep  this  half 
hour.  I  slung  him  up  in  a  hammock  in  the 
woodshed! " 

"  I  hope  he  '11  take  very  good  care  of  you, 
Puelvir,  dear,"  said  Corona.  "Mr.  Hens- 
leigh  says  we  're  perfectly  safe ! "  she  qua- 
vered. She  was  very  uneasy.  Even  Alex- 
ander could  not  comfort  her.  It  seemed  to 
her  as  if  the  scow  might  yawn  at  any  mo- 
ment and  let  them  through.  As  a  potent 
protection  against  such  a  catastrophe  she 
went  all  over  the  house  and  locked  it  up 
three  times.  The  strange  harbor  lights, 
the  sickening  sway  of  the  sea,  the  dipping 
of  the  house  that  suggested  implacable 
forces,  the  cries  of  the  sailors  from  good, 
honest  boats  anchored  near,  even  the  famil- 
iar odor  of  her  husband's  cigar  —  all  these 
made  the  woman  sick  at  heart. 


PARADISE  LOST  185 

But  Alexander  was  in  his  element.  He 
stalked  the  piazza  proudly.  He  felt  as  if 
he  were  captain  of  a  man-of-war.  His  wife 
had  to  call  him  three  times  to  come  in ;  and 
when  at  last  he  locked  the  front  door  for 
the  night  it  was  with  a  sigh  of  genuine  re- 
gret that  he  mounted  the  swaying  stairs. 

"Where  are  you,  dear?"  asked  Corona 
tremulously. 

"I'm  coming  up  the  companion-way," 
replied  Alexander. 

In  spite  of  the  strangeness  of  the  situa- 
tion the  family  slept  soundly  that  night. 
They  were  completely  tired  out.  It  might 
have  been  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  that 
Alexander  was  awakened  by  a  sharp,  terri- 
fied barking.  Matthew  Launcelot  was  at 
the  window.  With  one  bound  Hensleigh 
jumped  to  his  feet.  To  his  surprise,  the 
house  was  lurching  violently.  He  stumbled 
over  the  dog,  and  threw  up  the  window.  A 
terrible  gust  of  wind  smote  him  in  the  face 
and  almost  strangled  him.  He  could  dimly 
see  that  the  harbor  was  white-capped,  and 


186  PARADISE   LOST 

amid  the  shrieking  of  the  wind  he  could 
hear  the  straining  clank  of  the  chains  of 
the  adjacent  schooners. 

Corona  had  now  scrambled  to  his  side. 
She  was  completely  dressed.  So  great  was 
her  apprehension  that  she  had  thrown  her- 
self upon  the  bed  in  her  clothes. 

"This  is  terrible!"  she  shouted.  But 
she  might  as  well  have  whispered.  Her 
breath  was  swept  away  in  the  roar  of  the 
wind. 

"Come!"  cried  Hensleigh.  He  gripped 
his  wife  authoritatively  by  the  arm,  and 
they  pitched  downstairs  and  out  on  the 
piazza.  The  dog  followed  them,  trembling 
and  whining.  The  scene  that  met  them 
was  indeed  frightful.  They  held  to  the 
railing,  expecting  to  go  overboard  at  any 
moment.  The  two  scows  heaved  unevenly. 
The  ropes  that  bound  them  together  cracked, 
and  at  every  motion  the  scows  brought  up 
upon  the  single  anchor  and  upon  themselves . 
with  sickening  jerks. 

Hensleigh  put  his  arms  about  his  wife. 


PARADISE   LOST  187 

At  that  moment  the  squall  gave  Paradise 
a  merciless  blow.  There  was  a  snap,  and 
then  a  sudden  bound. 

"My  God!"  cried  Hensleigh,  "she's 
parted!" 

Twenty  Pound  Light  rushed  by  like  a 
race-horse.  The  two  struggled  to  the  end 
of  the  piazza.  When  they  got  there  they 
looked  for  their  kitchen  L.  Instead,  was 
darkness,  and  rushing  of  waters.  The 
scow,  the  kitchen,  Puelvir  and  Zero  had 
disappeared.  The  occupants  of  Paradise 
were  alone,  and  headed  out  to  sea. 


CHAPTER   X 

PARADISE   FOUND 

WHEN  Alexander  found  his  lares  and 
penates  adrift,  and  headed,  in  the  blackness 
of  the  storm,  out  to  sea,  his  first  feeling  was 
a  suffocation  of  conscience.  To  begin  with, 
he  had  married  this  woman ;  to  an  imagina- 
tion, that  seemed  at  this  moment  of  disaster 
as  turbulent  as  the  angry  waves  upon  which 
they  tossed,  misfortune  had  followed  them 
almost  from  the  hour  of  his  alliance.  Had 
he  not  nearly  burned  Paradise  up?  Was  it 
not  his  fault  alone  that  the  landlord  had 
made  a  raise,  unheard  of  in  the  annals  of 
real  estate  ?  And  was  not  this  followed  by 
the  placing  of  Paradise  Point  in  the  march 
of  progress  ?  He  —  Hensleigh  —  had  been 
the  serpent  in  Eden,  and  he  alone.  And, 
to  cap  the  climax  of  his  responsibility,  had 
he  not  engaged  the  mover,  hired  the  scows, 


PARADISE   FOUND  189 

bought  the  lot,  and  launched  Paradise  upon 
this  mad  risk?  Thus,  in  the  first  shock  of 
this  terrible  squall,  when  he  expected  to  be 
cast  upon  the  foam-tossed  rocks  that  are  so 
artistic  under  a  summer  sun,  and  so  deadly 
under  an  easterly  gale,  he  clasped  his  wife 
convulsively  to  his  bosom,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  he  blamed  himself  most  bitterly 
that  he  had  been  the  innocent  means  of 
bringing  —  oh,  not  only  her  precious  home, 
but  her  own  dear  self,  into  this  deadly  peril. 
Thus  in  the  blast,  in  the  night,  in  the  dash 
of  the  spray,  and  in  the  creaking  and  groan- 
ing and  whistling  and  rocking  of  the  scow, 
—  in  the  very  blossom  of  their  honeymoon, 
—  they  kissed  as  if  it  were  for  the  last  time 
their  lips  should  meet  on  earth. 

In  the  course  of  these  reflections  and  en- 
dearments it  occurred  to  Alexander  that 
they  were  not  drowned  yet.  He  unclasped 
his  arms,  and  discovered  in  the  process  that 
he  had  been  enfolding  Matthew  Launcelot 
in  the  same  embrace  with  his  wife.  While 
this  discovery  did  not  thrill  him,  still  he 


190  PARADISE   FOUND 

was  pleased  to  know  that,  so  far,  not  one  of 
his  immediate  family  was  lost.  He  howled 
into  Corona's  ear:  — 

"  If  you  can  hold  on  to  this  piazza  railing, 
I  will  see  what  I  can  do!  "  He  proceeded 
to  untie  the  lantern  that  was  swinging  a  mad 
protest  and  warning  from  the  piazza  roof. 
Hensleigh  remembered  that  there  was  a 
large  coil  of  rope  aboard,  and  also  a  spare 
anchor,  which  it  had  not  seemed  necessary 
to  those  experts  to  put  out.  Having  been 
a  yachtsman  in  his  younger  days,  Hensleigh 
found  this  a  familiar  combination,  and  he 
knew  what  to  do  with  it.  But  Corona  had 
no  idea  of  being  left  alone.  She  was  none 
of  your  namby-pamby  sort  of  women,  who 
faint  at  peril  through  sheer  nerve  cowardice. 
She  had  often  pictured  herself  in  every 
variety  of  danger  and  what  she  would  do 
therein.  True,  she  had  never  pictured  this 
variety.  Nevertheless,  the  mind-training 
that  she  had  given  herself  was  not  lost  even 
in  this  unheard-of  emergency. 

"Some  one  must  be  called!"    she  said. 


PARADISE   FOUND  191 

She  staggered  into  the  swaying  house,  made 
her  reeling  way  to  the  china-closet  shelf, 
and  set  her  trembling  hand  upon  the  dinner 
bell.  Hensleigh  was  at  this  moment  tying 
a  sailor's  hitch  upon  the  ring  of  the  anchor. 
Holding  Matthew  Launcelot  with  one  hand 
and  the  bell  with  the  other,  Corona  closed 
the  front  door  and  made  her  way,  almost  on 
her  hands  and  knees,  toward  the  flickering 
light  near  which  her  husband  was  bending. 

"Somebody  may  hear  us  and  save  us," 
she  screamed.  "  I  'm  going  to  ring.  Hullo ! 
Help!  Puelvir!  Zero!  Mr.  Timbers!" 
Matthew  Launcelot,  recovering  from  the 
limpness  of  mortal  terror,  roused  himself 
to  sudden  vociferation. 

The  dog's  bark  and  the  dinner  bell  rose 
discordantly  together.  It  was  Puelvir 's  big 
kitchen  bell,  the  one  that  she  used  when 
people  were  out  of  doors  and  late  to  meals. 
But  only  the  rage  of  the  squall  replied. 

"She's  drowned,"  thought  Corona,  with 
a  ghastly  calm.  "This  proves  it." 

Alexander  was  working  to  windward,  and 


192  PARADISE   FOUND 

it  is  doubtful  whether  he  heard  either  wife 
or  dog  or  bell.  He  did  not  look  up.  But 
Corona  looked  to  leeward.  In  the  lashing 
of  foam  and  in  the  rift  of  the  darkness  she 
thought  she  saw  a  green  light.  She  did 
not  know  that  this  was  the  starboard  lan- 
tern of  a  schooner  beating  into  harbor, 
close  rigged,  in  the  teeth  of  the  squall. 
Corona,  quite  beside  herself,  stared  at  the 
approaching  green  light.  She  did  not  know 
what  she  said.  She  called  out  in  a  shrill, 
feminine  quaver :  — 

"Oh,  please  don't  run  into  us!  -We're 
only  a  house  adrift!  We  can't  stop! 
Whoa!" 

Whether  the  look-out  saw  the  unsteady 
lantern,  or  whether  he  heard  the  yapping 
of  the  dog  or  the  clang  of  the  dinner  bell, 
—  strange  sounds  at  dead  of  night  to  be 
driving  with  a  squall,  and  to  be  borne  upon 
the  spray  to  his  alert  ears,  —  at  any  rate,  he 
gave  a  hoarse  signal  to  the  two  men  at  the 
wheel. 

Threatening, — like  a  huge  nightmare  bat, 


PARADISE   FOUND  193 

—  frightful,  imposing,  hissing,  the  three- 
master  bore  away,  and  then  came  about 
with  Paradise  under  its  lee.  You  might 
have  thrown  Matthew  Launcelot  on  board, 
so  close  the  apparition  came.  Fear-stricken 
sailors  bent  over  the  lee  rail  and  cast  in- 
credulous looks  at  the  loaded  scow.  What 
must  their  thoughts  have  been  to  see  a 
house  loom  up  in  the  middle  of  the  harbor 
on  a  night  like  this?  But  Corona  fell  by 
her  husband's  side.  Both  were  dumb  be- 
fore their  danger. 

The  hissing  night  swallowed  the  schooner, 
and  was  blacker  than  before. 

"Help  me,  Corona!"  cried  her  husband. 
"Quick!  It's  all  the  chance  we  have. 
We  must  get  this  anchor  out,  or  go  to  the 
bottom!" 

Corona  responded  bravely.  Hensleigh 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  make  the  other 
end  of  the  rope  fast  to  the  nearest  object 
that  he  thought  would  hold.  He  had  made 
a  hitch  over  a  great  joist  that  supported  the 
house  upon  the  scow.  It  was  a  half  hitch, 


194  PARADISE  FOUND 

and  he  might  have  been  very  proud  of  it. 
But  the  anchor  weighed  a  hundred  pounds, 
and  was  in  an  awkward  position.  Hensleigh 
tugged  and  pulled.  Corona  poked  and 
shoved.  At  that  moment  the  gale  gave  an 
angry  blast,  more  fierce,  more  virulent  than 
any  that  had  preceded  it.  Under  its  force 
the  scow  took  on  increased  impetus.  Hens- 
leigh was  now  thoroughly  frightened.  He 
gave  a  mighty  hoist.  There  was  a  splash, 
a  gurgle,  a  pause,  and  then  a  tremendous 
wrench  that  seemed  to  shake  Paradise  from 
her  very  foundations.  Windows  cracked, 
blinds  rattled,  and  china  and  pictures  and 
furniture  and  doors  reechoed  and  slammed. 

Where  were  Hensleigh  and  Corona? 
Prostrate  beneath  the  straining  rope  that 
had  saved  their  lives.  At  this  moment,  as 
if  with  Providence  prepense,  the  wind 
stopped,  and  the  calm  came. 

"Matthew !  "  called  Corona  faintly.  Her 
hand  was  in  her  husband's,  but  her  arms 
were  empty  of  her  dog. 

"Matthew  Launcelot!     We're  all  right. 


PARADISE   FOUND  195 

Matthew;     come     here,     sir!     Whee-ee-e, 
sir!" 

But  Matthew  did  not  respond  to  this  half- 
strangled  whistle.  Corona  groped  around 
in  the  darkness  on  the  scow.  But  the  dog 
was  gone. 

Puelvir  woke  up  shivering.  The  first 
blast  of  the  squall  had  battered  down  the 
scant  protection  of  curtains  and  blankets 
that  she  had  pinned  up,  and  had  left  her 
room  entirely  open  on  one  side  to  the  roar- 
ing blackness  of  the  furious  night.  Puel- 
vir's  modesty  was  shocked.  She  sprang  up 
to  refasten  the  curtains.  She  found  her- 
self in  the  middle  of  a  whirlwind.  First 
the  towels  and  stockings  revolved  about 
the  room,  and  then  sped  out  the  open  side. 
These  were  followed  by  sheets,  pillow-cases, 
curtains,  aprons,  blankets,  chairs,  and  table, 
until  Puelvir  felt  herself  irresistibly  sucked 
into  the  cyclone,  and  almost  swept  out  of 
her  room.  All  this  took  only  a  few  mo- 
ments from  the  time  of  her  awaking.  Then 


196  PARADISE   FOUND 

came  the  breaking  of  the  cable,  and  the 
sundering  of  the  two  scows.  Puelvir  dimly 
understood  what  these  accidents  portended. 
She  had  rushed  to  the  door  that  led  down- 
stairs to  the  kitchen.  It  was  held  by  the 
wind,  and  she  could  hardly  open  it  from  the 
inside.  In  the  struggle  she  began  to  call 
out  hoarsely:  — 

"  Get  up  there,  Zero !  We  're  ship- 
wrecked !  The  kitchen's  overboard ! " 

But  Zero  did  not  answer.  He  was  slum- 
bering peacefully  in  his  hammock,  which 
did  not  sway  with  the  scow.  For  Zero  had 
once  been  on  a  trip  to  the  Grand  Banks  as 
cook's  boy,  and  neither  the  motion  nor  the 
commotion  was  sufficient  to  disturb  his 
dreams.  At  last,  Puelvir,  breathing  heav- 
ily, arrived  at  the  woodshed,  and  began  to 
shake  the  hammock  violently. 

"Git  up!"  she  called.  "The  kitchen's 
gone  bust  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  it 's 
bio  win'  like  all  possessed  outside!  Don't 
ye  hear  it?" 

"Hay?"  asked  Zero  mildly.  "It's  too 
early  to  get  up  yet.  Lemme  alone." 


PARADISE   FOUND  197 

But  Puelvir,  without  ceremony,  lifted  up 
one  side  of  the  hammock,  and  spilled  Zero 
flatly  out  on  the  heaving  floor.  The  gale 
roared.  The  kitchen  trembled  and  shook. 
Puelvir  thought  that  they  were  about  to  be 
bodily  blown  into  the  sea.  So  she  stood  up 
as  firmly  as  she  could,  and  grasped  the  side 
of  the  shed,  to  hold  it  down.  But  Zero, 
whose  intelligence,  like  that  of  all  Fairhar- 
bor  boys,  burned  (like  potassium)  brightest 
upon  water,  cocked  up  his  head  and  listened, 
and  then  scrambled  to  his  feet. 

"It's  a  squall,"  he  said  coolly.  "I'll 
go  on  deck  and  look  out  for  her." 

When  Puelvir;  struggled  on  deck  and 
found  Paradise  gone,  she  was  overwhelmed 
by  a  stupor  of  fear,  not  so  much  for  herself 
as  for  the  safety  of  her  mistress: 

"She  's  drownded! •"•  wailed  Puelvir,  beat- 
ing her  hands  upon  her  breast.  "  She  can't 
do  nothin'  without  me.  She  never  could. 
He  ]s  no  good!  "  To.-her  mind  the  husband 
had  always  been  a  useless  encumbrance. 
Now  Puelvir  looked  upon -him  as  little  less 


198  PARADISE   FOUND 

than  a  murderer.  That  her  dear  Miss  Co- 
rona should  be  separated  from  her  under 
these  dreadful  circumstances,  and  with  him, 
was  more  than  she  could  bear.  As  for  her- 
self, it  had  not  yet  occurred  to  her  to  be 
very  much  frightened  on  her  own  account. 
She  did  not  know  enough  to  know  what 
danger  she  was  in.  But  Zero  understood 
that  they  were  in  desperate  straits. 

"We  've  got  to  hold  her,  or  she  '11  bring 
up  on  Halfway  Rock,  and  go  to  kindling!  " 
he  roared  at  Puelvir,  with  an  idea  of  giving 
her  comfort. 

As  they  were  in  total  darkness,  the  main 
house  having  gone  off  with  their  only  lan- 
tern, Zero  labored  at  a  considerable  dis- 
advantage. Besides,  there  was  no  anchor 
aboard,  and  no  warp  to  anchor  with  if  there 
had  been  one.  Zero  was  greatly  perplexed. 
But,  as  he  had  never  been  in  sole  command 
of  a  craft  before,  and  as  he  had  seen  worse 
gales  at  sea  and  more  water  aboard,  he  un- 
dertook his  new  responsibility  with  great 
zest  and  some  sense. 


PARADISE   FOUND  199 

"This  ain't  notliin' !  "  he  bellowed  again 
into  Puelvir's  face.  "I  've  seen  worse  than 
this.  If  I  only  hed  an  anchor,  an'  a  road, 
an'  rock  bottom,  we  'd  fetch  her  up  soon 
enough."  He  crawled  around  to  the  great 
wooden  cleats  upon  which  the  warp  had 
been  fastened  that  held  the  anchor  before 
it  parted.  Zero  felt  of  the  rope,  and  began 
to  pull  it  in.  To  his  surprise,  it  pulled 
hard,  and  before  he  knew  it  he  had  about 
fifteen  fathoms  of  good  cable  aboard.  It 
had  evidently  got  fouled  on  the  fluke  of  the 
anchor,  and  been  chafed  off  there  by  the 
strain.  Puelvir  knew  nothing  of  this  find. 
She  stood  with  her  gaunt  hands  making 
telescopes  at  her  eyes,  peering  into  the 
storm.  "If  she  hadn't  gone  and  got  mar- 
ried "  —  she  muttered  bitterly  to  herself. 

"I  want  an  anchor!  "  Zero  came  up  and 
bellowed  this  request  into  Puelvir's  face,  as 
if  he  had  been  asking  for  a  dish -towel  or  a 
quart  measure, 

"Why  don't  ye  take  the  stove?"  sobbed 
Puelvir.  "It  's  heavy  enough.  I  won't 


200  PARADISE   FOUND 

need  it  no  more.  We  sha'n't  never  see  her 
again." 

"It  mought  do,"  said  Zero  doubtfully. 
"We  mought  catch  on  sumthin'.  I  hain't 
heard  of  none  bein'  used  that  way.  There 
ain't  no  harm  try  in'.  Gimme  a  lift!  " 

The  scow  danced  and  spun  in  the  gale. 
It  was  now  far  out  in  the  harbor.  Puel- 
vir  began  to  be  thoroughly  alarmed.  She 
could  see  nothing  in  the  blackness.  She 
could  feel  the  salt  tears  wetting  her  cheeks 
like  rain.  She  helped  eagerly  at  the  stove. 
Zero  pulled  at  the  legs,  which  were  of  the 
kind  that  stay  on.  The  open  side  of  the 
sawed-off  kitchen  made  it  easy  to  get  the 
stove  out  and  down  upon  the  scow.  The 
muscles  stood  out  on  Puelvir's  big,  strong 
arms.  She  lifted  and  tugged  like  a  man. 

"I'll  tie  the  line  on,"  she  said,  panting. 
"It's  my  stove." 

"No,  ye  don't,"  Zero  retorted.  "It's 
my  ship!  Get  out!  You '11  tie  a  granny." 

"Call  me  a  granny?"  Puelvir  wrath  - 
fully  lifted  up  her  hand  to  box  the  boy's 


PARADISE  FOUND  201 

ears.  But  at  that  moment  a  wail  came 
over  the  sea.  It  was  the  tolling  of  a  bell. 
She  thought  she  recognized  the  sound. 

"It's  the  dinner  bell!"  she  cried  out. 
"Miss  Corona's  callin'  of  me!  Hi  there! 
Miss  Corona !  Here  I  be !  " 

"Eats!  "  interrupted  Zero.  "  Here, 
gimme  a  hand  on  this  here  stove.  It 's  the 
bell-buoy  off  Norman's  Woe.  If  ye  don't 
heave  her  over  now  we  're  goners  sure !  " 

This  practical  hint  as  to  their  saline 
status  sobered  Puelvir  like  a  dash  of  sea 
water.  Choking,  sobbing,  dazed  by  gale 
and  sea,  and  loss  and  terror,  she  gave  the 
stove  a  mighty  heave.  It  went  over  with 
a  splash  that  sounded  above  the  squall. 
The  wind  struck  them  more  incisively  than 
before.  The  bell  now  tolled  wild  and  mena- 
cing. It  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Zero, 
in  the  meanwhile,  was  feeling  of  the  cable 
as  the  scow  dragged  the  stove  on  the  uneven 
bottom.  Suddenly  there  was  a  terrible 
bump  —  a  howl  of  the  bell  enveloped  them 
—  a  final  shriek  of  the  squall  —  a  surging 


202  PARADISE   FOUX1) 

and  wrenching  of  the  scow,  and  a  slipping 
of  the  kitchen  followed.  The  two  were 
thrown  from  their  feet.  Zero  was  the  first 
to  recover  himself. 

"We're  all  right!"  he  yelled  above  the 
storm.  "We've  brought  up  on  the  buoy. 
We  've  give  her  a  good  crack.  We  've 
knocked  the  stuffin'  out  of  her!  The  stove 
has  fouled  her  chain!  Our  anchor  is 
ketched!  Bully  for  us!" 

July  never  blossomed  into  a  lovelier, 
calmer  dawn  than  it  did  on  the  morning 
following  this  historic  squall.  The  wrecks 
of  gilded  yachts,  of  trim  fishermen,  and  of 
lumbering  coasters  strewed  the  harbors  from 
Boston  to  Portsmouth.  Fairharbor  was  sig- 
nally free  from  loss  of  craft  and  life.  Only 
two  yachts  had  dragged  ashore. 

At  the  earliest  gray  of  the  morning,  long 
before  the  lobster  men  go  to  inspect  their 
pots,  long  before  the  traps  are  hauled,  or 
sloops  leave  their  weirs  for  the  early  market, 
two  tugs,  whose  black  smoke  seemed  even 


PARADISE   FOUND  203 

in  the  flying  darkness  to  desecrate  the  purity 
of  the  bay,  coincidentally  put  their  wheels 
ha.rd  down,  signaled  "full  speed."  and  made 
for  the  objects  of  thrnr  long  sotirch.  One 
tug  was  scouring  the  harbor;  the  other  was 
coming  in  after  a  fruitless  trip  at  sea. 
Since  two  o'clock  these  anxious  guardians 
of  the  harbor  had  been  vainly  searching  for 
Paradise,  which,  in  its  detached  form,  they 
must  have  passed  and  repassed  in  the  harbor 
many  times.  In  a  little  cove  by  the  beach, 
sheltered  and  serene,  within  a  biscuit's 
throw  of  a  summer  cottage,  Paradise  floated 
peacefully.  Towards  it  Mr.  Timbers  and 
the  house-mover,  on  the  harbor  tug,  made 
a  straight  course.  Quaking  with  the  terrors 
of  a  broken  contract,  and  the  expected  re- 
proaches of  an  offended  woman,  they  urged 
the  tug  to  its  best  speed. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  harbor  —  two 
miles  out  —  on  the  edge  of  the  channel,  the 
bell-buoy  lazily  called.  Here  a  touching 
meeting  was  taking  place. 

The   captain   of  the  tug  that  had  been 


204  PARADISE  FOUND 

engaged  to  move  the  cottage  leaned  far  out 
of  his  pilot-house,  giving  orders  to  make 
her  fast,  and  to  hold  her  this  time  with  all 
the  warps  on  board.  The  engineer,  having 
shut  off  steam,  was  the  first  to  board  the 
derelict.  He  and  Puelvir  met  on  the  scow's 
deck  and  wrung  each  other's  hands  like 
friends  who  had  been  separated  for  a  long 
time.  Zero  came  proudly  up  for  the  nauti- 
cal recognition  that  he  felt  was  due  to  him 
at  this  crisis. 

"It  was  a  blow,"  began  the  engineer, 
looking  around  and  then  letting  his  gaze 
rest  upon  Puelvir's  honest  face,  "an'  ye  've 
stood  it,  miss,  like  a  man." 

But  Puelvir  looked  at  the  engineer  se- 
verely, and  took  her  hand  out  of  his. 
"Where  be  they?"  she  demanded.  "Is 
she  safe?  " 

For  answer  the  engineer  turned  her  shoul- 
ders gently  to  the  eastward,  where  Paradise 
floated  in  the  cove. 

"See?  I  guess  everybody's  all  right. 
I  '11  bet  there  ain't  another  house  on  the 


PARADISE   FOUND  205 

coast,"  he  said,  with  a  bow,  "that  hed  rid 
out  that  squall  as  easy  as  yourn.  I  'd 
rather  have  her  than  a  yacht,  a  durn  sight. 
But  how  did  ye  anchor  her?  Ye  didn't 
have  none  aboard." 

"Thank  the  Lord  o'  Mercy  on  us!" 
Puelvir  wiped  her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her 
rough  hand.  She  was  not  thinking  about 
anchors. 

"We  heaved  over  the  kitchen  stove,"  put 
in  Zero  proudly.  "  That  ketched  her !  " 

"Kitchen  stove!"  repeated  the  engineer^ 
"Well,  I'll  be  slivered!  Well,  Zero,  you 
are  a  sailor,  an'  no  mistake!  You're  a 
scale  of  the  old  fish !  " 

"It  was  my  idee,"  said  Puelvir,  recover- 
ing herself  — "but  law!  let  the  boy  have 
the  credit  on't." 

"I  allers  said  you  was  a  corker!"  said 
the  engineer  admiringly,  as  if  he  had  known 
Puelvir  a  great  many  years. 

"Come;  boys!"  called  the  captain,  "cut 
the  rope,  and  we'll  get  her  out  of  this,  and 
have  her  back  there  before  folks  get  on  to  it. " 


20G  PARADISE  FOUND 

"What,  leave  my  kitchen  stove  to  the 
bottom?  No,  sir-ee!"  Puelvir  folded  her 
arms  stoutly.  "You  men  jest  haul  np  that 
there  No.  7  Magee  and  .set  her  up  for  me. 
I  've  got  to  get  breakfast  the  first  thing!  " 

A  gallant  shout  went  up  from  the  tug, 
and  the  stove,  covered  with  seaweed  and 
patched  with  starfish,  soon  sprawled  up  out 
of  the  water,  and  was  finally  hoisted  on 
deck,  and  lay  with  its  feet  in  the  air. 

"I  guess  I  kin  fix  her  for  ye,"  said  the 
engineer.  "  I  reckon  I  kin  set  her  up  for 
ye  when  we  git  started." 

Puelvir  gave  him  a  grateful  look. 

By  this  time  the  two  tugs,  with  their  im- 
portant tows,  began  to  approach  each  other 
in  the  middle  of  the  harbor. 

"Oh,  Miss  Corona,  dear!"  shouted  Puel- 
vir, brandishing  her  dish-towel. 

But  the  mover  took  Hensleigh  aside,  and, 
with  a  dark  significance,  pointed  out  to  him 
his  famous  half  hitch  of  the  night  before. 

"It's  lucky,"  he  said  dryly,  "that  the 
wind  blew  itself  out  when  you  made  her 


PARADISE   FOUND  207 

fast.  If  it  had  blown  five  minutes  longer 
that  'ere  anchor  would  have  pulled  yer  house 
and  you  along  of  her,  clean  into  the  water. 
Why,  man,  ye  made  her  fast  to  the  star- 
board skid  instead  o'  the  scow!  " 

"Well,  it  held,  anyway,"  said  Alexander, 
flushing.  "But  you  need  n't  tell  her,  or 
anybody  else.  Have  a  cigar?" 

The  mover  accepted  the  bribe,  and 
smiled.  He  never  told  Corona. 

The  two  scows  approached  slowly.  The 
passengers  stationed  themselves  on  their 
respective  decks  with  their  handkerchiefs, 
as  if  they  had  just  returned  from  a  tour 
abroad.  Instinctively  the  two  women  crept 
apart.  Puelvir  rushed  to  her  kitchen  door ; 
Corona  went  into  the  dining-room.  The 
scows  were  coming  up  side  wise.  Puelvir 
bent  far  over  and  held  her  hand  out.  Co- 
rona did  the  same.  The  chasm  grew  less 
and  less.  Suddenly  the  soft  hand  felt  itself 
clutched  as  if  in  a  hard  knot.  There  was 
a  leap  across  the  little  space,  and  before 
anybody  could  say,  "Don't!"  Puelvir  had 


208  PARADISE   FOUND 

boarded  Paradise,  and  the  two  women  were 
clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  and  were  cry- 
ing on  each  other's  shoulders.  Such  a 
pleasant  scene  can  only  happen  when  mis- 
tress and  maid  are  friends. 

"Be  you  all  safe?"  hysterically  asked 
Puelvir. 

"All  but  one,"  replied  Corona,  the  tears 
streaming  down  her  face.  "Matthew  is 
gone.  The  dear  little  boy  is  drowned." 
<.At  that  very  moment  the  front  door 
opened  in  a  ghostly  manner,  and  Matthew 
I^auncelot,  sniffing  the  morning  air,  saun- 
tered .out  upon  the  piazza.  Catching  sight 
of  the  house-mover,  he  made  a  dive  for  that 
gentleman,  to  whom  he  evidently  attributed 
the  .entire  catastrophe  of  that  tragic  night. 
A  cry,  of  joy  answered  Matthew's  bark,  and 
Corona  'caught  him  ecstatically  in  her  arms. 

"He  opened  the  door!  "  she  cried  proudly. 
"I  shut  it  in  the  storm  last  night,  and  he 
must  have  opened  -it  and  gone  in  all  by 
himself.  That  dog  can  open  anything  I " 

"Ahoy   there!     Ship  ahoy!"     A  gruff, 


PARADISE   FOUND  209 

guttural  cry  from  under  the  scow,  behind 
the  kitchen  L,  diverted  at  this  moment  the 
engineer  from  Puelvir,  Puelvir  from  her 
mistress,  the  mistress  from  the  dog,  and  the 
struggling  dog  from  the  house-mover.  It 
incidentally  diverted  Hensleigh  from  the 
knot  which  the  deck  hand  of  the  tug  was 
tying  to  a  new  anchor. 

"It 's  Father  .Morrison  with  them  lobsters 
I  ordered  for  breakfast,"  said  Puelvir  with 
dignity.  "He  never  went  back  on  us. 
Land !  He  's  got  a  passenger." 

She  had  hardly  spoken  when  a  gentle- 
man's face  appeared  above  the  edge  of  the 
scow. 

"I  say,  Hensleigh,"  rang  out  a  merry 
voice,  "give  us  a  hand  up!  This  scow  is 
beastly  slippery ! " 

"  Why,  it 's  Tom !  "  Corona  dropped  the 
dog  and  ran.  "How  on  earth  did  you  come 
here?  I'm  so  glad  you  never  knew  any- 
thing about  it  at  all  until  now !  " 

"Are  you?  "  asked  Tom  serenely. 
"Well,  I  hope  you  '11  invite  me  to  break- 


210  PARADISE   FOUND 

fast.  I  am  a  little  hungry.  You  see,  Sis, 
I  got  up  at  two  o'clock  and  started  the  tugs 
out  after  you.  Then  this  ancient  mariner 
and  I  have  been  scouring  the  Atlantic- 
Ocean,  and  have  searched  all  the  lobster 
pots  in  the  harbor  for  you  in  this  con- 
founded dory  ever  since.  Whew!  See? 
That 's  Susy  over  there  crying  her  eyes  out 
on  the  hotel  piazza  because  we  're  none  of 
us  drowned." 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE   SUERENDER   OF  PUELVIR 

IT  was  the  first  Sunday  in  September. 
Dinner  was  over.  Puelvir  was  washing  the 
dishes.  Her  deep  alto  Sunday-school  cho- 
ruses rolled  in  refluent  waves  through  the 
new  pantry,  the  enlarged  dining-room,  and 
the  comfortable  piazza.  Puelvir  had  sung 
a  great  deal  during  the  last  six  weeks,  and 
Zero  had  been  blessed  with  a  double  allow- 
ance of  desserts.  Matthew  Launcelot  had 
finished  his  Sunday  bone,  and  was  trying  to 
decide  which  of  the  parlor  rugs  he  would 
use  for  a  napkin.  Corona  lay  in  a  ham- 
mock. This  was  gently  swung  by  her  hus- 
band, who  lazily  sat  beside  her.  Every 
now  and  then  Corona  would  pat  the  hand 
that  held  the  netting,  and  every  now  and 
then  Hensleigh  would  call  her  attention 
to  a  peculiarly  perfect  ring  of  smoke  that 


212        THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVIR 

he  blew  from  his  mouth.  This  attention 
seemed  to  the  man  quite  an  endearment. 
He  felt  that  he  was  very  attractive. 

"I  can't  get  over  it,"  mused  Corona, 
straightening  herself  up  and  looking  about. 
"It's  the  same  house,  the  same  husband, 
but  everything  else  is  another  world.  I  feel 
like  Rip  Van  Winkle.  I  go  to  sleep  in  one 
place  with  one  set  of  views,  and  wake  up  in 
another  place  with  an  entirely  new  lot.  I 
don't  get  used  to  it  yet." 

"But,  dear,  marriage  is  another  world. 
It  is  a  change  of  venue.  You  look  out  of 
the  same  windows,  but  you  see  new  scenes. 
It 's  the  same  old  house  with  different  views. 
If  you  can  get  used  to  that  you  can  get  used 
to  this." 

Corona  sighed  happily.  She  missed  the 
broad,  bright  harbor,  the  voices  of  fisher- 
men gossiping  at  their  traps,  the  running 
in  of  neighbors,  the  bellow  of  the  whistling 
buoy,  the  great  palette  of  the  sunsets  on  the 
bay,  the  scarlet  flash  of  the  revolving  light, 
and  the  rhythm  of  the  water  that  used  to 


THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVIR        213 

wash  beneath  her  window  and  lull  her  to 
sleep.  She  thought  of  her  maiden  life, 
of  her  long,  quiet,  lonely  evenings,  of  her 
days  busy  with  unshared  pleasures  and  un- 
comraded  duties.  The  moving  of  Paradise 
completed  the  feeling  that  she  was  abso- 
lutely cut  off  from  her  past. 

But  she  turned  to  her  new  horizon. 
There  was  Squall  River,  although,  it  must 
be  admitted,  a  large  mud  flat  at  the  ebb  of 
the  tide,  yet  consequently  picturesque  with 
clam-diggers;  at  its  flood,  it  seemed  like  a 
peaceful  lake.  Storms  could  not  ruffle  its 
calm  surface  any  more  than  petty  misunder- 
standings can  disturb  the  hearts  of  those 
who  love  each  other.  Below  our  two  house- 
holders, to  the  right,  rose  their  own  pine 
grove,  ornamented  with  little  settees  and 
mosquitoes.  Near  by,  the  stern  of  the 
Sandpiper  patted  the  water  softly  at  her 
new  moorings.  Then  there  was  a  glimpse 
of  their  lost  harbor,  and  of  the  white  city, 
of  Ipswich  Bay,  and  of  the  great  sand  dunes. 
Behind  them  lay  the  forest  —  cool,  delight- 


214        THE    SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR 

ful,  and  unexplored.  Gray  squirrels  chat- 
tered in  it.  Birds,  so  scanty  on  the  wave- 
washed  cliffs,  rioted  here  from  bough  to 
bough,  and  flashed  in  colors  of  the  zircon, 
the  hyacinth,  the  tourmaline,  and  the  sap- 
phire. These  new  neighbors  cheerily  and 
warily  made  acquaintance,  and  took  the 
places  of  the  old. 

"Come,"  said  Corona.  She  slipped  from 
the  hammock,  and,  hand  in  hand,  husband 
and  wife  strolled  together  f.or  the  hundredth 
time  joyously  over  their  new,  old  house. 
They  stood  at  the  parlor  window.  "We 
used  to  see  the  beach  from  here  before; 
don't  you  remember,  dear?  But  I  like  the 
pines."  Upstairs  in  the  blue  room,  between 
the  muslin  curtains,  Corona  lingered  for  a 
moment  without  speaking.  Where  the  gray 
drift  of  the  downs  used  to  undulate,  soft 
and  alluring,  with  the  uneasy  sea  line  be- 
yond, now  the  tops  of  trees,  the  descent  of 
the  valley,  the  winding  of  the  river,  and  the 
smarting  white  of  the  sand  dunes  looked  in 
strangely.  A  little  ache  of  homesickness 


THE   SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR        215 

closed  about  Corona's  heart.  But  she  felt 
an  arm  steal  around  her,  and  then  she 
looked  up  into  her  husband's  face. 

"You  don't  mind  it,  dear,  do  you?" 
Alexander  asked  gently. 

"I  don't  mind  anything  as  long  as  I  have 

you!" 

Their  thoughts,  which  seemed  to  be  one, 
deviated  distinctly  at  that  moment.  The 
man  had  begun  to  feel  a  little  impatient  of 
this  happy  idleness.  The  honeymoon  was 
to  him  only  a  beautiful  interruption  to  a 
busy  career.  He  could  not  look  upon  it  as 
an  interlude  in  the  music  of  his  life.  It 
was  more  like  a  theme  on  too  high  a  plane 
to  be  always  maintained.  The  Wedding 
March  must  soon  give  place  to  a  symphony 
in  which  many  movements  are  played  in 
different  time  and  key. 

But  to  Corona  these  rapturous  weeks  had 
become  the  necessary  expression  of  exist- 
ence. She  remembered  with  remorse  how 
she  had  once  laughed  at  a  little  bride  who 
cried  all  day  the  first  time  that  her  husband 


216        THE   SURRENDER    OF  PUELV1R 

left  her  to  go  to  his  business  in  town.  Co- 
rona could  not  even  imagine  how  it  would 
be  to  live  if  Alexander  were  not  always 
with  her.  Corona  was  not  a  new  woman. 
She  had  no  career.  She  had  a  genius  for 
home.  She  was  a  home  -  making,  home- 
loving  soul.  Her  house  had  been  more  to 
her  than  other  people's  houses,  and  now 
her  happiness  —  she  turned  and  looked  at 
her  husband.  She  was  convinced  that  he 
was  more  to  her  than  any  other  husband  to 
any  other  woman  in  the  world.  There  was 
something  in  this  rhapsody,  after  all.  Wo- 
men like  Corona  make  the  honeymoons  that 
last. 

"Shall  I  hitch  The  Lady  up,  or  turn  her 
aout?" 

Zero's  drawling  voice  broke  the  spell  that 
the  one  reflective  day  in  the  week  so  easily 
casts  upon  loving  hearts.  The  two  looked 
at  each  other  doubtfully;  but  as  is  fre- 
quently the  case,  the  smallest  member  of 
the  family  decided  the  question.  Matthew 
Launcelot,  who,  as  has  been  said,  hated  the 


THE   SURRENDER    OF   PUELVIR       217 

horse  with  all  the  enmity  of  which  a  black 
and  tan  heart  is  capable,  at  the  mention  of 
her  name  began  to  bark  jealously.  This 
disturbance  effectually  broke  in  upon  the 
family  peace,  and  like  an  interrupted  chord 
it  could  not  easily  be  found  again. 

"We  might  as  well  take  a  ride,"  said 
Alexander.  "You  may  hitch  her  up,  Zero. 
Put  her  in  the  beach  wagon,  and  we  '11  take 
you  over  to  see  your  mother." 

Puelvir  was  left  alone.  She  sat  down  on 
the  new,  little  piazza  that  Mr.  Hensleigh 
had  built  for  her,  and  which,  by  the  way, 
had  almost  won  her  heart  over  to  him,  and 
proudly  surveyed  "her  house,"  incidentally 
condescending  to  notice  the  scenery.  Puel- 
vir wore  a  white  cambric  dress  decorated 
with  green  four-leaved  clovers,  and  a  fresh 
white  apron.  Her  brown  neck  was  made 
the  browner  by  one  of  the  white  cotton  lace 
ornaments  favored  by  her  kind  on  Sundays, 
but  a  little  band  of  green  velvet  around  her 
throat  relieved  this  effect.  Her  hair  was 


218        THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVJR 

crimped.  Her  eyes  were  happy,  her  mouth 
was  kind,  and  Puelvir  looked  uncommonly 
well. 

A  crisp  noise  on  the  pine  needles  in  the 
path  through  the  grove  suddenly  attracted 
Puelvir's  attention.  She  looked  up.  A 
man  was  coming  toward  the  house.  "It's 
a  tramp!  "  thought  Puelvir.  She  called  on 
Matthew  Launcelot,  her  natural  protector, 
but  Matthew  had  basely  deserted  her  for  a 
gray  squirrel,  and  was  half  a  mile  away  in 
the  woods.  Puelvir  whisked  into  the  kitchen 
and  bolted  the  door.  But  when  she  gave, 
through  the  window,  a  second  look  at  the 
intruder,  she  perceived  that  the  tramp  wore 
a  high  silk  hat,  pearl  trousers,  and  a  long- 
tailed  black  coat.  Tan  gloves  covered  his 
hands,  and  in  one  of  them  he  swung  a  hand- 
some malacca  cane.  When  he  saw  her  in 
the  window,  which  she  was  locking  as  rap- 
idly as  possible,  he  smiled  and  lifted  his 
hat  two  feet  from  his  head.  Puelvir's  heart 
leaped  above  her  cotton  lace,  and  thumped 
against  the  green  velvet  ribbon  at  her 


THE   SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR        219 

throat.  The  engineer  of  the  tug  stood  be- 
fore her  in  his  Sunday  clothes. 

"  Why,  land !  "  she  said,  flinging  up  the 
window.  "You  don't  say!  I  thought  you 
was  a  tramp.  I  was  just  settin'  the  critter 
on  to  you." 

"How  do  you  like  it  here  in  this  God- 
forsaken place?"  he  asked,  carefully  de- 
positing his  tall  hat  on  the  window-sill  and 
vigorously  wiping  his  face. 

"Well/'  replied  Puelvir,  "I  miss  my 
hogshead  and  my  clothes-post.  But  we  've 
got  a  pump  'n'  hot  water." 

"Won't  you  let  a  feller  in?  "  pleaded  the 
caller. 

"I  mought  and  I  moughtent,"  said  the 
woman  judicially.  The  engineer  tried  the 
door,  and,  finding  it  bolted,  made  as  if  he 
were  about  to  climb  in  by  the  window.  At 
this  Puelvir  flushed  red. 

"You  keep  your  distance  and  set  out 
there  where  you  belong!"  Puelvir 's  voice 
sounded  sharp,  but  her  eyes  danced.  "  My 
folks  are  all  out.  I  'm  alone,  an'  you  can't 


220        THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVIR 

come  in  nohow.  It  's  agin  the  rules. 
What  'che  come  for,  anyway?  " 

"Well,"  answered  the  engineer  slowly, 
"I  felt  kinder  hungry,  an'  I  wanted  some 
more  of  them  griddle  cakes." 

"Griddle  cakes!  I  don't  fry  griddle 
cakes  Sundays  for  nobody."  Puelvir  smiled 
expansively.  "But  I  '11  see  if  I  can't  hunt 
ye  up  some  cold  vittles.  You  'd  better  set 
down."  Puelvir  gave  her  dress  a  little 
flounce  and  disappeared  into  the  pantry. 

The  engineer  looked  after  her,  and  bit 
the  ends  of  his  heavy  black  mustache  dubi- 
ously. "She  's  a  hummer,  she  is,"  he  mut- 
tered to  himself,  "an'  no  mistake." 

But  presently  she  came  back,  carrying 
with  great  care  a  cut-glass  dish,  in  which  a 
white,  frosted  work  of  art  floated  in  a  deli- 
cious sea  of  yellow  custard.  This  tempting 
trifle  was  intended  for  the  family's  supper; 
but  not  having  been  acquainted  with  their 
privileges,  they  would  not  miss  their  loss. 
The  engineer  disposed  of  the  floating  island 
with  admiration  too  deep  for  words.  Per- 


THE   SURRENDER    OF  PUELV1R       221 

haps  Corona's  silver  spoon  and  her  best 
Dresden  saucer  had  something  to  do  with 
the  feeling  of  luxurious  comfort  that  began 
to  inundate  the  engineer's  heart. 

"By  the  great  horn  spoon,  but  you  can 
jest  everlastingly  beat  the  Dutch  a-cook- 
in' !  "  The  visitor  drew  his  chair  up  as 
close  to  the  window  as  possible,  and  bent 
in.  "Ye  know,"  he  said,  looking  at  her 
boldly  with  admiring  eyes,  "I  said  aboard 
the  tug  I  was  a-comin'  for  some  more  o' 
them  griddle  cakes,  an'  then  I  was  a-comin' 
for  you.  I  reckon  ye  didn't  think  I  meant 
it.  But  I  did.  That  soft  stuff  is  a  sight 
better  'n  cakes;  and  here  I  be." 

"Oh,  you  be,  be  you?"  said  Puelvir 
jauntily.  "That  takes  two.  What  are 
you  goin'  to  do  about  it?  "  Puelvir  took 
the  empty  dishes,  and  appeared  to  carry 
them  to  the  sink  with  great  calmness.  But 
in  reality  she  felt  as  if  the  old  world  were 
spinning  around  her  middle  -  aged  head. 
Her  nautical  hero  watched  her  with  set  lips. 

"Unbolt  that  door!  "  he  demanded. 


222        THE    SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR 

"I  won't,"  said  Puelvir,  turning  on  the 
hot  water. 

"You  keep  me  out  here  like  a  tramp." 

"You  behave  like  one." 

"You  need  n't  think  I 'm  hoofin'  it  way 
up  here  this  hot  day  for  nothin',  miss,"  the 
engineer  exploded.  "Open  that  door,  or 
I  '11  bust  the  whole  shebang  in !  " 

"Ye  don't  catch  me!"  retorted  Puelvir 
with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

"I  don't,  hey?"  Before  Puelvir  could 
realize  what  had  happened,  her  visitor  had 
vaulted  in  through  the  open  window,  and 
had  taken  her  in  his  mighty  arms.  He 
gave  her  a  resounding  kiss.  "I  thought  ye 
said  it  took  two.  There  are  times  when  it 
don't  take  more  'n  one,  an'  that 's  a  man 
with  his  mind  made  up." 

Puelvir  struggled  and  screamed.  "Mur- 
der !  Help !  Fire !  Tramps !  Let  me  go !  " 

"Certainly,"  said  the  engineer,  "if  you 
want  to."  He  opened  his  arms,  and  Puel- 
vir sank  upon  a  chair  breathless, 

"What,"  she  gasped,    "what  would  my 


THE   SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR       223 

folks  say  if  they  cotched  us  in  here  with  the 
door  locked  ?  Unbolt  that  'ere  door,  quick !  " 

"They'd  say,"  said  the  engineer,  lei- 
surely unfastening  the  door  and  opening  it, 
"that  I  was  a  mighty  lucky  feller  to  get  ye, 
an'  they  'd  give  us  a  blessin'.  I  was  calcu- 
latin'  we  'd  get  spliced  this  fall,  if  you  've 
no  objections." 

"I  have,"  panted  Puelvir. 

"Name  'em!"  The  engineer  stood  over 
her.  "I'll  'bide  by 'em  all." 

"If  that's  so,  there  ain't  no  use  my 
namin'  of  'em."  Puelvir 's  head  drooped. 

"I  notice,"  said  the  engineer  soberly, 
touching  the  sleeve  of  her.  dress  with  real 
delicacy,  and  dropping  on  one  knee  so  that 
his  face  could  be  near  to  hers,  "that  you  've 
got  four-leaf  clovers  on  your  gown.  Call  it 
»  good  luck,  gal  dear,  won't  you?  Call  it 
luck  for  two." 

Puelvir  glanced  timidly  at  her  lover's 
face.  She  saw  his  eyes  tender  with  a  depth 
of  feeling  that  was  rare  to  men  of  his  hard 
life.  She  bent  slightly  toward  him,  and 


224        THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVIR 

this  time,  when  he  took  her  in  his  arms, 
she  did  not  object. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hensleigh  drove  home  in 
the  early  dusk.  Zero  climbed  out,  and 
went  to  The  Lady's  head.  Matthew  ran 
from  the  woods.  Puelvir  came  from  the 
house,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  assem- 
bled family  she  uttered  these  words :  — 

"Well,  Miss  Corona,  he's  come,  an' 
I  've  up  'n'  gone  'n'  done  it.  I  've  give 
my  word.  I  'm  goin'  to  be  married  come 
October." 

"Dear  me,  Puelvir!"  expostulated  Co- 
rona. 

"Well,  I  am.  But  I  told  him  he  need  n't 
expect  to  hev  me  till  you  go  for  the  winter. 
I  wouldn't  leave  you  nohow,  not  fur  no 
man.  Besides,  I  told  him  he  'd  got  to  give  « 
up  tuggin'  summers  an'  go  to  the  Grand 
Banks  fishin'.  I  wouldn't  look  at  him 
'thout  I  stuck  by  you  summers,  says  I.  He 
said  he  don't  favor  fishin',  but  he  'd  com- 
permise  on  a  Bar  Harbor  steamer.  So  that 


THE   SURRENDER   OF  PUELVIR       225 

fetched  me,  for  I  took  it  kinder  thought- 
ful of  him.  I  won't  give  up  nary  one  nor 
t'other,  so  there,  now!  I  've  fixed  ye  both." 

Alexander  and  Corona  stood  alone  to- 
gether in  the  sea-scented,  resinous  dusk. 

"What  shall  we  do  without  her?  "  asked 
Corona.  "But  I  suppose  we  '11  board  win- 
ters, and  can  get  along." 

"I  don't  intend  to  board  any  longer  than 
we  can  help,"  Alexander  replied  quietly. 
"I  want  my  own  home.  Don't  you?" 

They  looked  out  over  the  black  pine 
woods  toward  the  harbor.  Hensleigh  walked 
to  the  end  of  the  piazza  to  close  a  blind. 

"  Come !  "  he  called.     "  Come  and  see !  " 

Corona  hurried  to  him.  Her  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  gesture  of  his  hand.  Between 
the  branches  of  a  tall  pine  a  red  eye  faded 
and  burned  —  faded  and  burned. 

"It 's  my  lighthouse!  "  cried  Corona  rap- 
turously. "It 's  the  flashlight  on  the  Point. 
I  have  missed  it  so !  Oh,  you  dear  old  red 
light!  Now  I  feel  perfectly  contented." 


226        THE  SURRENDER    OF  PUELVIR 

To  Corona  the  crimson  light  had  always 
seemed  like  the  heart  of  the  sea.  Now  it 
seemed  like  the  heart  of  a  home. 

She  lifted  her  face  to  her  husband. 

"Fun  is  good,  Truth  is  better,  and  Love 
is  best  of  all,"  quoted  Alexander  softly. 
Silently  they  clasped  and  kissed. 

"I  used  to  think  Paradise  was  the  house," 
she  whispered.  "Now  I  find  it  is  you." 

"No,  no!  it  is  you! "  he  protested. 

"It  took  us  both  to  find  it,  dear." 

"And  it  will  take  us  both  to  keep  it,"  he 
answered  her,  "for  God  meant  it  to  be  so." 


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